Under a shower of confetti, Kevin Durant finished his 10th NBA season on Monday night. This means we now have a full decade’s worth to judge just how good he is in the larger, historical scope. Now that he’s finished the best defensive season of his career and a transcendent NBA Finals MVP-worthy performance against likely the best small forward of all time, should Durant already be considered the third-best player at his position in NBA history?

To explore this question, I spoke with four former NBA players who have either played with or against Larry Bird and Julius Erving—M.L. Carr, Reggie Theus, Sidney Moncrief and Scott Weldman. Theus also coached against Durant when New Mexico State played Texas at the 2007 NCAA Tournament and as head coach of the Kings and an assistant coach for the Timberwolves. I also got insight from Bob Ryan, the legendary sportswriter who had a front row seat for Bird’s career and has covered the NBA since the 1960s.

Before delving into breakdowns of how Durant stacks up against Bird and Erving, all of them offered caveats on the inherent difficulty of comparing players from different eras. For example, the modern game stresses three-point shooting far more than the game did in the ’70s and ’80s. This is one reason Kevin Durant leads other top small forwards in terms of true shooting percentage, a metric gauging shooting efficiency that involves points scored from three pointers, field goals and free-throws.

Here are a look at how Durant’s shooting percentages stack up against Bird, Lebron and Dr. J:

Rule changes in the 21st century have titled in the offense’s favor, meaning players today face far less physical defenses than in previous generations. M.L. Carr, who played on the Boston Celtics from 1979 to 1985, said that back in the day he and other NBA players practiced a physical brand of defense that would get them suspended from today’s game. “Instead of going up the side to block someone’s shot, I’d go to block the shot to get him under the chin and rub that nose and try to break the nose. That’s what I did, okay? Plain and simple,” Carr recalls. “There was nothing I wouldn’t do on the court. Nothing.”

But those days are over.

“Commissioner [David] Stern, before he left, made sure that those stars are protected,” adds Carr.

It should also be noted that at the highest levels of the game, the lines between position break downs—especially on a team like Golden State where Durant often alternates between the two forward spots and center—are often blurred. “The rigid notion of ‘small forward’ or ‘power forward’ is often irrelevant,” longtime Boston Globe writer Bob Ryan says. “The two best forwards ever are Bird and LeBron, in some order. They are each uncategorizable.”

So, yes, pure apple-to-apple comparisons are impossible. But before these NBA Finals, that hadn’t stopped the LeBron vs. MJ debate, and it shouldn’t stop this debate either. The following is a breakdown of parts of Durant’s game vs. those of Bird and Erving.

Shooting

All interviewees agreed Bird and Durant operate in the same stratosphere when it comes to flat-out shooting ability and range. A physical advantage may go to Durant, who has a longer wingspan than Bird. “When Durant gets into into a scoring area, you’re always in jeopardy,” says Reggie Theus, a small forward with the Chicago Bulls from 1978 to 1984. “The way the game was played before, is they would run him off a pick. He would catch the ball 16 to 20 feet out. Now Durant is bringing the ball up the floor, or he’s catching it at 25, 27 feet away from the basket,” he adds. “With Larry Bird, you could basically physically stop him from catching the ball in certain areas, whereas you really can’t with Durant because he’ll catch it 30 feet from the basket.”

While Julius Erving was an inferior shooter to Bird and Durant, Theus considers him “just as great a scorer” because of his ability to finish, get to the rim and to the free throw line. Erving, he says, was nearly in a class by himself in running the floor. LeBron James is the closest parallel, but whereas James uses his strength to bull through defenders, “Doc sort of finessed around you and went over the top of you.”

Sidney Moncrief, a Milwaukee Bucks superstar in the 1980s, adds that Erving’s massive hand size and ability to easily palm the ball gave him a unique advantage.

Ball handling and Passing

“I think Durant has the ability to manipulate the defense off the dribble more, in terms of manipulating the floor. Larry Bird was better than Durant in terms of passing, in terms of setting his teammates up,” says Theus.

“No one anticipated angles of the game better than Larry,” adds M.L. Carr. “He would sense where you were going to be and he got the ball there in the nick of time. It was unbelievable how he read the defenses with his passing. I just had never seen that before. If you ask me about passing, comparing Durant to Larry, there is no comparison. There just isn’t. Shooting, yes, but there is not on the passing.”

This is the side of the ball where Durant’s potential, due to his seven-foot frame, long arms, timing and quickness, appears to be higher than that of Bird’s and Erving’s. He’s focused on defense all season long and was especially good in these playoffs against the likes of All-Star Gordon Hayward and All-World LeBron James. “All you want as a defender is make a guy think twice,” Draymond Green recently told ESPN. “That’s what you saw with LeBron. He knows he can’t just attack KD.”

“If this is really who he is, it’s going to take him to another level because I think that defensively Bird and Doc were—I wouldn’t say poor defenders—but they weren’t considered to be great defenders,” says Theus.

Scott Wedman, a small forward who played for Kansas City-Omaha from 1974 to 1981 and later for the Celtics, says, “Larry was a great help defender and Dr. J was a great passing lane defender. When Dr. J was guarding me, I don’t think it was his sole objective to shut me down, I was maybe a 20-point scorer at best. I thought he was normally just looking at the passing lanes so he could be dunking on the other end.”

M.L. Carr recalls, “You could isolate Larry one-on-one and sometimes he’d have some problems, but in the defensive setting there was never a better team defensive player. Larry was an incredible team defensive player because he was talking to you. Dr. J could shut you down when he wanted to, he’d get pissed off because something happened. He could do that because he had the athletic ability to do that. Durant is not there yet. He’s had a good year defensively, but one year does not make a dynasty. Matter of fact, you tell the Golden State Warrior fans two years doesn’t make a dynasty either.”

Conclusion

It’s clear Durant is widely respected by basketball insiders regardless of all generations. His game, foremost, is built on a mastery of fundamentals and would transfer well to any era. In terms of raw statistics and overall damage done in his decade in the League so far, the 28-year-old Durant has already made a strong case for number three small forward of all-time behind only James and Bird.

But will he surpass Bird for No. 2?

Larry Bird won three NBA championships and was clearly the best and most important player on his Boston Celtics teams. On these Warriors, Durant’s skill set makes him the best player or second-best player (behind Curry) on a loaded roster. But in terms of importance, you can certainly argue that Draymond Green is the team’s most versatile player and its emotional leader.

For many fans and insiders, the number of championships Durant ends up winning beyond this first one will ultimately determine his all-time ranking. Sidney Moncrief knows that’s the metric by which many people choose their “greatest” of all time. Still, he doesn’t think a specific number of rings should alter Durant’s all-time stature one way or the other. “I don’t think it would matter even if he didn’t win the championship, because he’s a great player,” he says.

“You are who you are as a player. What about all those Olympians [without NBA titles] who won a Gold Medal with the Dream Team? No one’s saying because they played on the Dream Team they’re not great players, or they’re not champions.”

—

Photos via Getty Images

Evin Demirel is a writer who grew up in Little Rock, Arkansas. He knows the odds of fellow Arkansan Scottie Pippen cracking this all-time Top 4 are worse than the Nets winning the 2018 NBA Championship, but wanted to mention Pip anyway.

The fact that South Carolina–the conference’s worst program since 2000–broke through to play in the Final Four this April clearly proves it. Even though South Carolina failed to beat Gonzaga in the semifinals, the Gamecocks’ success was still the story of this postseason.

Still, despite their Cinderella run and the usual deep tears by Florida and Kentucky, the SEC suffers from a lack of national respect relative to other elite conferences. A big reason: Whereas the likes of ACC and Big 12 consistently get at least half of their teams into the NCAA Tournament, since 2009 the 14-team SEC has struggled to get more than four or five teams in per year.

Auburn head coach Bruce Pearl predicts this changes next year. He forecasts six to eight SEC teams will annually get into the NCAA Tournament starting in 2018. We recently spoke to Pearl, a former Tennessee head coach who led the Volunteers to the 2010 Elite Eight, about the conference, his program’s place in it, and more:

SLAM: What do you think of the strength of the SEC as a whole?

Bruce Pearl: Right now you’re starting to see the beginning of some of the fruits of the labor that the SEC basketball team has planted. I’m talking about Mike Slive, Greg Sankey, Dan Liebowitz, Mike Tranghese, Mark Whitehead, the coaching hires and the commitments on campuses. When our third or fourth-best team, South Carolina, can put 65 in the second half on the best program in the country in Duke, it sends a strong message that SEC basketball might be better than what it’s perceived.

SLAM: How can the SEC annually get six or seven teams into March Madness?

BP: We need to win more games in November and December and have more teams in the top 25… When the top of our league gets better and wins, it pulls all those teams in the middle up [in terms of metrics like RPI] and that’s how to start getting six, seven, eight teams in the tournament.

SLAM: What’s your outlook for Auburn and the postseason next year?

BP: For the first time since the Chris Porter Sports Illustrated cover [circa 1999] people expect us to get to the [NCAA] Tournament, and they should… I think it is a very attainable and realistic goal for us to finish in the upper division of the SEC next year based on what I return and what we’ve recruited. We were the only team in the nation last year to finish with its top four scorers as freshmen.

SLAM: Do you think SEC basketball suffers from a general national perception that the SEC is a “football conference”?

BP: Why is being ‘a football conference’ a bad thing? It’s not a bad thing. It’s a great thing. We’ll always be a football conference and be proud of it… When we win in softball, gymnastics or swimming as often as we do, does that make us any less of a football conference?

SLAM: You told me, in the past, opposing coaches from other conferences used the SEC’s football success to dissuade Tennessee and Auburn basketball recruits. What would they say?

BP: Things like, “You’re not going to get treated the same way as the football team” or “You’re not going to get to eat in the same cafeteria [where] the football team eats in, you’re not going to have the same tutors, you’re going to go to the same level of strength training — there’s not the same level of interest…”

But it’s not true. Our guys get the same respect, the same opportunities, the same adoration.

SLAM: Speak to some of the cultural differences between “basketball conferences” and the SEC.

BP: In November, in so many places around the country in high-major conferences, it’s starting to get cold. They’re ready to get inside and they’re ready for basketball season to start. That’s not the way it is on our campuses in November and even in December. And that’s what gives some of these conferences a head start on us.”

In a lot of [SEC] places, in November, we’re just getting warmed up. We haven’t had the Iron Bowl yet. You haven’t had Auburn vs. Georgia yet. We’re just getting warmed up in November in football — are you kidding me?

LeBron James was doing what 22nd century players do when wormholed into the now: Blowing by Iggy on a crossover and dropping a running skyhook in his eye; swiping Bogut’s candy in the paint, then barreling full-court the other way with it; finishing off a Kyrie Irving alley with a jackhammer so explosive, it’s a wonder the concrete under Quicken Loans Arena is still intact.

The Cleveland Cavaliers’ 6-8, 250-pound superstar was in full force Wednesday night, helping lift his team to a 120-90 home win in Game 3 of the NBA Finals.

But the victory, cathartic as it was, doesn’t erase the fact Cleveland has still lost seven of its last eight games to Golden State. Or that, down 1-2, it still has a mountain as large as Donald Trump’s ego to scale. A single win, resounding though it was, can’t immunize Cleveland’s Big Three from being blown up this summer.

James, Irving and Kevin Love joined forces in the summer of 2014 with plans more ambitious than winning a lone title. They eyed a dynasty. With James at the core, they had the one guy on the playground bigger, faster, quicker, stronger, more skilled and more explosive than everybody else.

Though nobody had combined all those superlatives like James, this has been the general template, to varying degrees, for practically every great all-time pro basketball dynasty. At the core of each juggernaut, dating back to the 6-10 George Mikan and his Minneapolis Lakers, has been a physical force of nature—someone who appears to be decades ahead of the evolutionary curve.

So it’s reasonable James expected this to work in Cleveland, too. Except, of course, the Golden State Warriors happened, and in the process started drafting a blueprint for a new genus of NBA titan. Golden State has some very good athletes, including Andre Iguodala and Leandro Barbosa, but neither of them has the capability to destroy opponents on his own.

This team relies on collective statistics instead of individual specimens. As Stephen Metcalf wrote for The New Yorker, “The Warriors’ scoring efficiency—the number of points scored per possession—is so high, thanks largely to all the three-point shots they hit, that there may be nothing a Goliath of the old variety can do to keep pace.”

The Goliaths of Old

Hall of Famer Bob Pettit was the star of the St. Louis Hawks, the only team to defeat a Bill Russell-led Celtics team in an NBA Finals. Pettit considered Russell to be the NBA’s most dominant player of the 1960s not because he was anywhere near the most skilled but in part because, at 6-9 and 220 pounds, Russell could do things nobody else in the League at that size could imagine.

Russell, whom Track & Field News once ranked as the world’s seventh-best high jumper, boasted far more explosive fast twitch muscle fiber than his peers. Case in point:

Jumping over a defender after taking off from just inside of the free-throw line clearly shows the kind of “next-level” type athleticism and length that could help Russell star in even today’s NBA.

To Pettit, Russell was part of an evolution that would continue as long as the game itself.

“Everything in life is improved, why not basketball? The players are bigger, stronger, better coached, jump higher, shoot better and run faster,” Pettit wrote in his 1966 memoir The Drive Within Me. “In any sport which is measured by time and distance—for example, swimming, track and field—the records keep getting better. So it is safe to assume basketball players are improving just as swimmers and track men and they are better now than they have ever been.”

We’ve seen Pettit’s observation play out over the decades in the form of Julius Erving, whose next-level agility and explosiveness helped propel the Virginia Squires to three ABA championships. We’ve seen it in the form of Magic Johnson, whose overwhelming size and ability at the point guard position would be just as devastating now as it was 35 years ago.

Johnson’s reign was officially ended by Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen, a pair ranking with Kevin Durant/Russell Westbrook as the most athletic twosome in league history. The core of next juggernaut, led by Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant, certainly combined athleticism and sheer size like few others.

Even the San Antonio Spurs would not have won five titles since 1999 without two physical freaks of nature: David Robinson at the front end of their reign, and Kawhi Leonard on the backend.

To this day, no true 7-footer has surpassed The Admiral in sheer foot speed:

Today’s Goliaths

Now Golden State is two games away from carving out the start of a legit dynasty all its own. Other teams, from the early 1970s Knicks to the ‘04 Pistons, have won titles in similarly collective fashion, but no team has ever dominated like this without a traditional Goliath in terms of size and/or quickness.

To get two more wins against Cleveland, Golden State can’t depend on Stephen Curry to perform acts of physical supremacy. Hell, he can hardly be counted on to complete a dunk attempt even after a blown whistle.

By themselves, even when fully healthy, the 6-2 Curry and 6-7 Klay Thompson simply are not going to blow by or through defenders. They rely on each other and their teammates to space the floor to a greater degree than superstars blessed with supreme quickness.

For two years, they have been able to out-smart and out-skill their opponents to become as deadly a backcourt as Bird-McHale-Parrish became in the 1980s. The main difference, though, is that famed Celtics frontcourt had superior size and length to help.

The Warriors don’t need their MVP to be a juggernaut to win. Curry hasn’t been for three games now, and Golden State is still up 2-1. Instead, Golden State players and coaches expect their depth, versatility and skill will ultimately carry the day, so long as they play hard enough. Cleveland is favored by two points to win Game 4, but if the Warriors consistently go hard from now on, can James really prevent two more wins? Even if he’s found his power forward groove, and even if Kyrie Irving and JR Smith keep showing up?

After Game 1, Metcalf wrote Golden State is “turning the once state-of-the-art majesty of LeBron—a.k.a. King James—into file footage from another era.”

For one night at least, James summoned enough Herculean might to press pause.

The two highest paid players in the NBA this season were Kobe Bryant and Joe Johnson. The former went out in a blaze of individual glory, racking up 60 points in an otherwise meaningless regular-season win against Utah.

The lack of gold at the end of the career tunnel shouldn’t have worried Bryant too much. He had, of course, already long ago established his legacy by teaming with Shaq to hoist three Larry O’Brien trophies in a row.

Johnson, meanwhile, has now played in 11 postseasons and not yet been able to play in an entire Conference finals, let alone an NBA Finals. This spring, he clocked in with the most games of his post-season career (14) but as usual couldn’t break through. His Heat lost to Toronto in seven games.

It didn’t have to be this way.

Just over three months ago, Johnson had the opportunity to join LeBron James, Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love to form a team on par with the best team Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O’Neal ever formed. The Brooklyn Nets had just waived Johnson and James tried to convince his former USA Basketball teammate he should join the Cavaliers.

“All I care about is winning. That’s all that matters to me. A piece like Joe, you know what it does to your team,” James told the Cleveland Plain Dealer. “If he was concerned about playing time or concerned about starting, then I’ll sacrifice. I’ll sacrifice to get a guy like that to help us try to win a Championship.”

James said he was willing to move to power forward, if necessary, to allow Johnson to slide into the small forward position. The King’s courtship didn’t matter. In the end, Johnson chose Miami instead, saying he wanted “security” and “somewhere I could really play and come out and enjoy the game.”

No doubt, Johnson has enjoyed the game, racking up seven All-Star selections, signing a $123 million contract and over the last decade, hitting the most buzzer-beaters of any player in the League. Yet as great as the 34-year-old has been at closing games, closing seasons has been an entirely different story.

Part of the blame lies with Jerry Stackhouse.

In 2004-05, Johnson was a young, rising star on a 62-win Phoenix team which took the League by small-ball storm before Stephen Curry had even finished his junior year of high school.

Those ‘05 Suns eviscerated Memphis in the first round before taking down Dallas and clashing with San Antonio in the conference finals.

Unfortunately, they started that series sans Johnson. Against Dallas, Stackhouse had blocked a breakaway dunk by Johnson, who caught the rim and fell hard to court, fracturing an eye socket. He missed the next six games.

By the time Johnson returned for Game 3 of conference finals, Phoenix had already lost its first two at home. San Antonio sprinted through the series in five games and ultimately won the Championship.

Johnson later told the Arizona Republic he felt his injury was a critical factor: “There’s no way you can tell me we wouldn’t have been NBA champions if I hadn’t got hurt.”

Had Johnson chosen to re-sign with Phoenix after that season, it’s likely he would have played in an NBA Finals by now. Instead, over the next decade, Johnson chose to headline fringe playoff teams like Atlanta and Brooklyn.

Johnson’s next best shot at the Finals came this year. Miami featured veterans like Dwyane Wade, Luol Deng and Goran Dragic (Nash’s former protege), alongside very promising rookies in Justise Winslow and Josh Richardson.

They also had a preeminent X-factor in Hassan Whiteside, the freakishly athletic 7-footer who averaged nearly 3 blocks, 11 rebounds and 12 points on 68 percent shooting in 10 playoff games.

For the first time since his Phoenix days, Johnson didn’t have the pressure of being a lead performer. He didn’t have to shoulder the scoring load. And, for the most part, he thrived. In the regular season his shooting efficiency soared as his number of overall shot attempts plunged from previous seasons.

But things changed in the postseason, where Johnson’s performance went Evel Knievel into a brick wall during the second round. With Whiteside missing the bulk of the series due to injury, Johnson’s age and subpar lateral quickness were exposed when trying to defend the much shiftier Raptor guards.

He also had perhaps the worst outside shooting stretch of his career, converting a mere 14.3 percent on three-pointers while still attempting 3.5 threes a game.

It grates at me that Joe perpetually falls short of the Finals. He’s my high school classmate, and part of me will always remember him as a 16-year-old kid whose fluidity and skill on the court at Little Rock Central High made me fall in the love with the idea of sportswriting in the first place.

Plus, he’s a cool guy who gets along with essentially everybody. No doubt like most NBA stars Johnson has an ego—you don’t show yourself wearing outlandish fur coats on your Twitter profile unless you do—but that ego hardly gets in the way of his likeability.

He’s just so steady, so even-keel, so Arkansan.

Johnson will tell you that of course he wants to win a Championship, of course he wants to play deep into June. Yet had he really wanted to make that goal a priority, would he have left a team in Phoenix that was on the brink of a title?

Johnson spent his prime years in Atlanta and was awarded one of the richest deals in NBA history for it. But $123.7 million, six-year contracts typically don’t leave much room to attract the best free agents, either.

What if Johnson had signed with Cleveland, now a favorite to beat whichever Western Conference team it meets in the Finals? With JR Smith and Iman Shumpert around, it’s unlikely Johnson would have played the 32 minutes a game he did in Miami. By now he would have downshifted into a more complementary role than he held in Miami. That would have meant a bigger blow to the ego.

But here’s the thing: Thanks to his tepid postseason, that blow is guaranteed to come no matter what. Johnson is now an unrestricted free agent heading into 2016-17 and, regardless of the team he chooses, he will be paid significantly less than the nearly $25 million he got this year. His name isn’t near the top of Miami’s off-season priorities, which remain with the likes of Dwayne Wade, Hassan Whiteside and bringing in a mega free agent.

There is also the complicated issue of whether Chris Bosh, sidelined for months by blood clots, will return next season. If he doesn’t, the Heat will need Johnson more.

“If Joe were to return, it likely would be a Heat decision made later in free agency, a timetable that might not necessarily suit Joe’s preferences,” writes Ira Winderman of the Sun-Sentinel. “It could come down to whether Johnson is willing to wait for the Heat to put their $2.9 million ‘room’ mid-level exception into play after they are done filling out their salary cap. And even then, the question is whether $2.9 million for 2016-17 would be enough to meet Joe’s demands.”

What Joe demands of the team he chooses will reflect how he sees himself at this stage of his career. If he still sees himself as more star than supplement, someone who deserves to gorge on more “Iso Joe” moments, he’s going to play increasingly inefficient and depressing old-man ball for another pretender.

But if Johnson accepts a role as more supplement than star, like he did in Phoenix, then he can evoke a Ray Allen, Michael Finley or even Boris Diaw to become a savvy, skilled veteran who chips in 25 minutes a game to score a title or two.

Because of that gargantuan contract, Johnson had long suffered from the perception he is overrated. While he’s finally free of that burden, the contract will forever frame the narrative of his career. Meanwhile, with each early playoff ouster, his reputation in some circles as a loser grows.

Entering these last years, the ball is in Johnson’s hands. He still has a shot at basketball’s biggest stage, a chance to fill the gaping void which remains in his legacy.

]]>http://www.slamonline.com/nba/joe-johnson-so-arkansan/feed/02016 NBAEBack To Back To Back To Backhttp://www.slamonline.com/college-hs/college/breanna-stewart-back-to-back-to-back-to-back/
http://www.slamonline.com/college-hs/college/breanna-stewart-back-to-back-to-back-to-back/#respondFri, 08 Apr 2016 20:43:37 +0000http://www.slamonline.com/?p=394010

UConn star Breanna Stewart fueled one of the most successful four-year runs in college basketball history. How does her career stack up to other all-time greats?

All the same, no basketball fan in her right mind considers Horry to be greater than Jordan. Horry was a great complementary player, sure, but it was the all-timers around him who did the heavy lifting.

Imagine, though, Horry was considerably more talented, skilled and athletic—imagine his abilities resembled Kawhi Leonard’s. In that case, he certainly would have played a bigger role in the titles his teams won, and he would have bagged a few NBA Finals MVPs himself.

Yet as good as Leonard has become, he’s still not on par with Bird, Magic or LeBron in their primes. And even if a Leonard-level player had Horry-level hardware, he still doesn’t surpass Jordan.

Why? Because Jordan’s greatness doesn’t come solely from the quantity of titles he won. It also comes from his individual exploits, the sheer consistency of the overwhelming dominance he displayed throughout every regular and postseason he played with the Chicago Bulls.

The point is worth remembering in the wake of Tuesday night, when the UConn women beat Syracuse to secure their fourth straight championship. The win further catapulted UConn superstar Breanna Stewart into rare air, prompting the question of whether she is the greatest player—man or woman—in the history of college basketball.

“Stewie” has proven to be as devastating at her level as Kawhi Leonard is at his, steadily crushing opponents’ will with her 6-4 length, shooting range and versatility. On top of that, she was the best player on the only Division I women’s team to lose only once in a three-season span and the only team to win four consecutive national titles. Oh, and she’s also the only person to win four NCAA Tournament Most Outstanding Player awards.

As great as Stewart was though, she’s not the greatest college basketball player of all time. Other players—men and women—make stronger arguments despite winning fewer national titles.

Take Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, for example. For three straight seasons at UCLA, Abdul-Jabbar (aka Lew Alcindor) matched or one-upped Stewie in practically every category. The Bruins’ prestige has dropped in recent years, to the point where their odds to win the 2017 NCAA Championship are on par with Vanderbilt’s, but in the late 1960s UCLA was even more dominant than the UConn women are now. Abdul-Jabbar’s Bruins won 98 percent of their games compared to 96.8 percent for Stewart’s Huskies.

Both Abdul-Jabbar and Stewart won the Most Outstanding Player award every postseason they qualified for it. In the late 1960s, freshmen weren’t allowed to play varsity, but had Abdul-Jabbar been eligible he likely would have won it as a freshman too.

Abdul-Jabbar separates himself from Stewart when it comes to individual statistics. He bore more of the burden for his team and delivered more often at a higher level. The fact Stewart averaged 10.3 rebounds and 19 points in national title games looks really impressive—until you compare that line to Abdul-Jabbar’s title game averages: 18 rebounds and 30.3 points (on 70 percent shooting).

A side-by-side comparison of statistics from each player’s first three seasons further confirms that Abdul-Jabbar is in a class of his own when it comes to mixing individual accomplishment and team success:

Year One

Year Two

Year Three

OK, so maybe bringing the men into it was a bit much.

In terms of women’s college basketball only, how good is Stewart’s G.O.A.T. case? Here nobody separates themselves like Abdul-Jabbar, but a few players still surpass her in important areas. USC legend Cheryl Miller, for instance, won two titles but was a vastly more dominant individual force. Her freshman season alone was a masterpiece, while Stewart’s freshman year looked relatively pedestrian (more to come on this later).

Critically, Stewart is far from the consensus best player in the history of her own program. More insiders maintain that distinction belong with Diana Taurasi, whose Huskies won three titles from 2002-2004. Taurasi didn’t have the benefit of playing with as many All-Americans as Stewart did, ESPN analyst Doris Burke points out to the Hartford Courant: “In Diana’s final two seasons, so much of their success on those National Championships was driven by her. She had the ball in her hands for extended periods. She had the ball in her hands for the most important moments.”

Burke continues: “She made the players around her be above the level that maybe they thought they could play at. In terms of the weight of responsibility and that certain something that certain athletes have to raise the level of the people around them, Diana didn’t have Morgan Tuck and Moriah Jefferson, the next two best players in the country [after Stewart] in my estimation.”

Taurasi had the luxury of those caliber of players in her sophomore year, but it was pretty much her show the next two seasons. Whereas Stewart et al rolled in as overwhelming favorites in practically every post-season game played later in her career, Taurasi’s Huskies were an underdog in the semifinal against Texas her junior year. “We had no business winning that game,” Connecticut coach Geno Auriemma told Zach Lowe. “She made everybody around her feel like they could do anything.”

Comparing The Best of The Best

Freshman Year

Sophomore Year

Junior Year

Senior Year

Make no mistake about it: Whether surrounded by other All-Americans or not, Stewart is a great player. But her greatness doesn’t transcend and overwhelm in the same way Michael Jordan did in the NBA, or Kareem Abdul-Jabbar or Cheryl Miller did in college. Hardly any players ever reach this level, so that shouldn’t be an indictment against Stewart or take away from all that she has helped accomplish.

As Burke put in during Tuesday’s title game broadcast, “After a rocky first year at Connecticut, Stewart has gone on to become the most decorated and most successful player in history.”

Those two descriptions should be enough.

What about other all-time college greats like Bill Walton, Maya Moore, Brittney Griner, Sheryl Swoopes and Chamique Holdsclaw? See how they stack up to the above players here.

NBA fans have long clamored for the inclusion of non-NBA players in the Slam Dunk Contest. On Sunday night, the League stepped closer to making this dream a reality.

The League and its broadcast partner TNT gave a non-NBA player nearly 30 seconds of airtime when they showed footage of the 6-1 Jordan Kilganon performing a reverse baseline dunk for the ages during a commercial break in the fourth quarter of the All-Star game.

The twisting throwdown elicited sideline whoops from Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, Carmelo Anthony and others, which TNT cameras showed, and plenty of praise from the game’s broadcasters. “Where was he last night?” said Reggie Miller, alluding to Saturday night’s dunk contest. “We could have had a three-way tie.”

Miller was only half joking.

Previously, the idea of a pro dunker getting a primetime spot on an NBA national broadcast had largely been thought of as likely as the Lakers winning the 2016 Championship. Why would one of the world’s most wealthy sports leagues allow free advertising for someone not a part of it?

While professional dunkers don’t yet have official direct ties to the NBA, they are developing significant ties to its powerful business partners. Consider there would have been no reason to provide Kilganon a national platform on Sunday unless TNT wanted to boost his celebrity for a very obvious reason: Kilganon is one of 32 dunkers featured in a new reality TV series called The Dunk King that will air during this spring’s Western Conference Finals. The four-part series will follow the dunkers as they compete for a $100,000 prize.

That’s a huge jump from the $1,000 to $15,000 prizes which are the current standard in the pro dunking world. As Turner Network Television ramps up promotions for the show, expect the mass appeal of dunkers like Kilganon to skyrocket from their current social media grassroots to a new stratosphere. No doubt, TNT executives hope Dunk King will do for these YouTube sensations what American Idol did for up-and-coming pop stars.

If the show succeeds and inspires new seasons, then the idea of including pro dunkers in a Dunk Contest moves from fantasy toward legitimate business opportunity. It will, after all, be in the best business interest of TNT to tout The Dunk King and its stars in the promos of the actual NBA games it airs. And with Turner Sports a big part of a nine-year, $24 billion deal that will enrich the NBA, what’s good for TNT is generally good for the NBA.

If TNT really wants to take The Dunk King to American Idol-like heights, it should throw down another prize for the winner besides money: an opportunity to compete in the NBA’s dunk contest. This provides a win-win cross promotion for the NBA and TNT. The dunk contest would provide a ratings boost to the show, while the show will provide months of anticipation for the dunk contest.

Players as well as fans already support the idea of expanding the dunk contest field. Last year, Shaquille O’Neal posted on Facebook he wanted to see Kilganon in this year’s contest. Former NBA Slam Dunk winner Jeremy Evans told SLAM he also welcomes the idea: “It would just be a bigger challenge,” he said. “They have different tricks and ideas that we’re gonna have to prepare for.”

Most NBA players want to compete against the best in the world, regardless of the league they do or don’t belong to. They want this even though they know the pro dunkers have thousands of extra hours of practice on them. Kilganon, for instance, has apparently been working for years on a Holy Grail-esque 360, between-the-legs-twice dunk. Were he able to unleash that in a contest, it’s almost guaranteed no NBA player could match him. Even matching his signature “Lost and Found” dunk will be hard enough.

But notice almost all pro dunkers are in the 6-feet or under range. While every bit as explosive as the best NBA dunkers, they are nowhere near as long. That is, if they had the height of professional basketball players, they would probably be making a lot more money right now as professional basketball players. For comparison, look at the 6-5 Zach LaVine and 6-9 Aaron Gordon. No matter how much training Kilganon does, they can pull off stunts Kilganon can’t because he simply isn’t long enough.

In the end, pro dunkers and NBA high-flyers would each bring their own distinct advantages to the contest. For years, fans have waited to see how they will employ them against each other under the bright lights. After Kilganon’s primetime promo in advance of The Dunk King, that wait shouldn’t be much longer.

At the highest levels of boxing, the marquee matchup every fan wanted to see at its peak—Floyd Mayweather in his prime vs. Manny Pacquiao in his prime—never transpired. But at basketball’s highest level, fortunately, the best cannot avoid the best. Tonight Golden State hosts San Antonio in what should be framed, by most metrics, as the greatest regular season game in NBA history.

Never before have two teams so dominant collided at midseason. Golden State and San Antonio have a combined winning percentage of 88.6 percent, nearly three percentage points higher than the combined win rate of Milwaukee and Los Angeles when those superpowers rumbled in January 1972. After the dust cleared from that showdown, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Oscar Robertson had ended the 33-game win streak propelled by Wilt Chamberlain and Jerry West.

Below are six other notable games featuring teams which had won at least 75 percent of their games before playing:

Not only are Golden State and San Antonio’s overall records supreme, but few teams have ever entered such a big-time bout playing so well in recent games. The Spurs have reeled off 13 wins in a row and in Kahwi Leonard boast perhaps the one player most capable of giving Steph Curry fits. Golden State, meanwhile, pulverized East contenders Cleveland and Chicago last week and remains on track to set the all-time NBA wins record for a single season.

Oh, and another thing: there’s a strong argument these teams are so far among the top 3 in NBA history. Below are the best teams in league history according to TeamRtng+, which takes the average of a team’s offensive and defensive production and measures it against the league average.

Forget Pacquiao and Mayweather. The numbers show these squads are trending toward prime Frazier and Ali status:

Given these nearly unsurpassed twin peaks of efficiency, it’s little wonder one Spurs fan venturing onto a Warriors blog went so far as to tell Golden State fans he was “looking forward to sharing multiple basketballgasms with you tonight.”

Despite all the love being showered on these teams, some hoop cognescenti believe today’s biggest, best thing benefits from weakened competition. They don’t think today’s top teams could not dominate to the same extent in previous eras. For instance, while many of today’s younger critics assume the 72-win Bulls of 1995-96 are the standard these Warriors and Spurs aim to surpass, it should noted that at least two prominent hoopheads have gone on the record against this line of thinking.

1. Wilt Chamberlain

Before he died in 1999, the Big Dipper went into Big Doubter mode when asked to measure that decade’s great Bulls teams against the best of his own era. Chamberlain believed his ‘67 Sixers were the best of all-time despite finishing with “only” 68 wins, a smaller win total than three teams following it in future decades. By 1995 the NBA had expanded to 29 teams, but in the late 1960s the league only had 10 teams, as Chamberlain pointed out. “We were going up against Boston, the defending champion, nine times a year,” he said. “Now, win your games against the good teams and you’ve got 70 wins.”

Chamberlain’s math is a little fuzzy, but there’s little doubt were he alive today he would make a similar point about the Spurs or Warriors: They would not be on track for 70+ wins if they had to play each other—and another top contender like the Oklahoma City Thunder—nine times each this season.

2. Bill Simmons

In his 2010 tome The Book of Basketball, Boston uberfan Bill Simmons lays out a passionate argument why the ‘96 Bulls are secondary to the ‘86 Celtics as the best ever. The team’s defensive versatility—which featured four frontcourt players who would make the Hall of Fame—is a main reason:

“They even had one wrinkle that mortified opponents: a supersized lineup with a frontline of Parish, McHale and Walton, then Bird playing guard on offense (which could happen because McHale the Freak could defend almost any two-guard). Every time they played those four guys together at once, you moved to the edge of your seat.”

“On the flip, they could also handle smallball with Bird-DJ-Ainge-Wedman-McHale, or even Sichting in Wedman’s place and DJ (Dennis Johnson) playing small forward. You could not throw an opponent at them from any point in history that they wouldn’t have handled. Kinda like Dirk Diggler.”

As skilled as those Celtic guards and forwards were, it’s hard to imagine them having them having the lateral quickness necessary to contain the Warriors’ ultra versatile and proficient “Death Ball” lineup of Andre Iguodala, Curry, Draymond Green, Klay Thompson and Harrison Barnes for an entire game.

Of course, it’s hard to imagine any one team with the depth, length and quickness needed to do that.

***

Tonight’s game, which Golden State enters as a five-point favorite, is only the first of four regular season bouts between the teams. A playoff series could produce up to seven more games. Expect the coaches to strategize tonight with those later meetings in mind.

Already, we know Spurs coach Gregg Popovich will bench Tim Duncan to alleviate his right knee soreness. Pop, wily tactician he is, may choose not to unveil during this game specific lineups he has in mind for countering “Death Ball” in a possible playoff showdown. For that matter, Warriors coach Steve Kerr could decide it’s not in his team’s best long-term interest to even allow the Spurs to get defensive reps against it.

It’s hardly any loss for basketball fans if the coaches hold back. Even when operating at 95 percent, these two teams are still far ahead of the pack.

]]>http://www.slamonline.com/nba/spurs-warriors-matchup-history/feed/02015 NBAEOAKLAND, CA - FEBRUARY 20: Stephen Curry #30 of the Golden State Warriors drives to the basket against the San Antonio Spurs on February 20, 2015 at Oracle Arena in Oakland, California. NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that, by downloading and or using this photograph, user is consenting to the terms and conditions of Getty Images License Agreement. Mandatory Copyright Notice: Copyright 2015 NBAE (Photo by Noah Graham/NBAE via Getty Images)Stephen The Scorerhttp://www.slamonline.com/nba/stephen-curry-all-time-scorer-shooter/
http://www.slamonline.com/nba/stephen-curry-all-time-scorer-shooter/#respondSat, 05 Dec 2015 20:32:52 +0000http://www.slamonline.com/?p=380147

Steph Curry might already be the best shooter in the history of the NBA. But can he join MJ, Kobe and Wilt as one of the game's greatest scorers ever, too?

The reigning MVP is at it again, this time better than ever, having an all-time great season for an all-time great team. He might already be a lock for the Hall of Fame, and his performance through 20 games so far this year has him arguably rocketing toward all-time top 20 player status at the tender age of 27. Curry averages 32 points and five three-pointers a game, while shooting more than 52 percent on field goals and 94 percent on free throws. He adds six assists, five rebounds, 2.4 steals and at least one instance of an opponent just giving up and straight watching per game.

His Player Efficiency Rating (35.18) is on track to blow the best seasons of Chamberlain (31.82) and Michael Jordan (31.71) out of the water.

So, yeah, Curry is really good. So good, in fact, old heads and new schoolers alike widely regard him as the greatest shooter in the game’s history.

But can he become the game’s greatest scorer?

That one’s more open to debate. Because historically the greatest scorers of all time not only put up the most total points, but they also deliver history’s most iconic games. The case for Chamberlain as greatest scorer is stronger because he once delivered an otherworldly, record-shattering 100-point game. Same goes for Jordan, with his 63-point playoff game, still a record, against a Boston team which featured five Hall of Famers and went 40-1 at home. The same applies to Kobe’s 81-point magnum opus, by far the greatest scoring performance by a guard in 70 years of NBA history.

Anybody who wants to compete with that trio for the title of greatest all-time scorer doesn’t just compete with their records. They have to compete with their most transcendent moments, and what those moments represent to millions of fans, as well.

Here, Curry is in trouble on both fronts. Before this season, he’d never averaged more than 24 points a game, while Jordan/Chamberlain/Bryant all averaged more than 30 points a game in multiple seasons before age 27. Given this relatively late start on scoring supremacy, the Lakers have higher odds of winning the 2016 NBA Championship than Curry has of catching any of those “Big Three” in total career points.

Same goes for single-game scoring records. The Golden State Warriors are so good and deep they are far more unlikely than The Big Three’s less talented squads to need a 70 or 80-point effort from a single player. Plus, since the Warriors often win by such wide margins, Curry plays only 34 minutes a game and often sits in fourth quarters.

Curry’s greatest strengths are his efficiency as a shooter (his 70 percent true shooting percentage would shatter the single-season record for guards) and his unselfishness. Ninety-nine percent of the time, this is a great thing. But in terms of delivering a signature, iconic game, this has actually been a bad thing.

Curry typically doesn’t shoot enough over the course of an entire game to threaten any of The Big Three’s records, and in the occasional situations he is on pace to potentially threaten, he shreds net so well through the first three quarters he’s usually not needed at the end. So, paradoxically, he is shooting himself out of contention for these all-time total point benchmarks.

This unique context sits up a situation where fans should not expect Curry’s signature game to come in the same form that the Big Three’s did. Those players overwhelmed their competition with combinations of superior size, athleticism and skill to varying degrees. Because Curry has become more technically skilled than any of them, but far less gifted with size, strength and athleticism, his dominance looks very different.

For instance, while young Jordan “attacked the rim and defied gravity, Curry seems to exist in a dimension without it,” writes Tim Kawakami of the San Jose Mercury News, “He just calmly places himself and the basketball wherever he wants while all other players whirl and tumble haphazardly around him.”

No offense to Shawn Marion, but it’s Curry who truly attacks the game with Matrix-like precision. That precision, in turn, should be the basis of what could be Curry’s defining NBA game.

Curry can deliver his own transcendent game to rival Jordan, Bryant and Chamberlain’s by breaking the 50-point mark without a single miss. We’re talking pure, unfiltered perfection from the three-point line, two-point range and free-throw line. Such a game would propel Curry to a place alone in history.

Imagine it: the arena crowd would murmur with increasingly more excitement with every shot he takes and makes as the game—presumably a close one—wears on. Social media would catch fire, sending tens of millions of more people to their TV sets to watch history unfold. The next morning, people who care nothing about pro sports would hear about the deed on their daily work commute. In the coming months and years, oral histories and books would be penned, 30 for 30 docs filmed.

This is the game Curry needs to grab the imagination of fans in a long-term way that no cute GIFs or 28-point quarter bursts can. Sure, hardcore NBA fans love the shake-and-bake Vines spreading throughout Curry’s emerging legacy, but those things have shallow roots. Their importance is day-to-day. Tomorrow we’ll be clicking on some other latest and greatest.

The significance of truly historic games, meanwhile, never fades. The decades don’t dull their impact.

A perfect 50-point game isn’t impossible. Right?

If Gary Payton can deliver a perfect 30-point game, and Cedric Ceballos nearly landed a perfect 40-point game, Curry should be able to do this. Or at least he has a better chance than anybody else. Especially since his performance is on a seemingly never-ending upward trend as Green Eyes gets an ever-bigger green light. Somehow, the more he shoots, the higher percentage of shots he makes.

Jordan, Bryant and Chamberlain, though, represent a higher goal. Curry has no shot at them without a signature game all his own.

Curry’s Comp: Notable Accurate Point Detonations Of Last 30 Years

Charles Barkley and Gary Payton are the only Hall of Famers to break the 30-point barrier with a perfect game since 1985, according to basketball-reference.com. A few other stars have flirted with the 40-point barrier, as you can see below.

Curry’s masterpiece, of course, will likely include lots of three-pointers.

In the late 1940s, the all-white Lakers had a widespread reputation as the nation’s best basketball team. George Mikan, a 6-11 big man as dominant in his time as Anthony Davis is in ours, was on the cusp of leading Minneapolis to five of six titles in the NBA and its predecessor league. Yet the 6-7 Clifton almost shut Mikan down while matching him on the boards when the two battled one-on-one in the pro basketball event of the decade.

Clifton was a headliner for the Harlem Globetrotters, which then attracted the nation’s best black players—not the NBA. The extremely talented Globetrotters were good, so good that on a single night in 1949 against a short-handed Lakers team, they rolled out to a lead so large that as the game wound down they started to clown around. Stuffing balls down jerseys and all that jazz. The win was filmed—still a rarity at the time—and shown to millions of Americans who soon realized the best black basketball players were just as good as the whites who would make up the entire NBA in its inaugural game in 1946.

Yet as accomplished as Clifton was, he wasn’t compensated at anything near the level of the League’s best white players. While among the highest-paid black basketball players of the time, his earnings paled in comparison to even the collegiate stars that the Globetrotters took on.

“We played an all-star game [in 1949] against a team Bob Cousy was on,” Clifton told the Chicago Sun-Times in 1986. “After the game, Cousy, who got to be a pretty good friend, asked what [owner] Abe Saperstein paid us. He showed me his check for $3,000. I was ashamed to show him mine. It was for $500.”

By 1950, New York Knicks president Ned Irish was ready to give Sweetwater a chance. He purchased his contract from the Globetrotters in May 1950 for $10,000, Clifton later recalled. Clifton became the first black player to sign an NBA contract. (He was technically the second to sign an NBA contract, but Harold Hunter, who did so beforehand, never played in an NBA game.) He followed Earl Lloyd as the second African-American to play in the League.

Sweets, as he was best known, had immediate impact. He helped lead the Knicks to three straight NBA Finals appearances while practically averaging a double-double. His long-time affinity for any kind of sweetened drink led to him becoming an ad pitchman for Coca-Cola, a nascent sign of the vast cross-cultural influence black NBA players would accrue in later decades, according to Martin Guigui, a director who has researched Clifton’s life for nearly two decades.

By all accounts, Sweetwater was a soft-spoken, hard working man whose professional conduct helped open the doors of opportunity for great black players like Elgin Baylor and Bill Russell who would follow him. “He was a pioneer for me and a lot of other African-Americans,” Oscar Robertson said in a tribute at the 2014 Naismith Hall of Fame enshrinement ceremony.

While Clifton, who passed away in 1990, was comfortable with his role as a trailblazer, he wished he could have done more. He regretted not having a shot at more stardom in his own right. “I feel like I was the best player in the League in my day,” he told the Sun-Times. But “I was only allowed to shoot about six or seven times a game…Only when it was late in a tight game would they turn to me for scoring.”

The coaches didn’t design offensive plays for him despite the fact he occasionally chipped in more than 30 points a game. “All I was really allowed to do was to rebound, hand the ball over to my teammates and guard the toughest players on the other teams.”

The rare opportunities in which he showed his stuff left jaws dropped. “He could cross the court in five strides,” and had what today would be a three-point shot, Guigui says. Sweets also handled the rock better than most other players at his position. Guigui says he has footage of him bounding downcourt, throwing the ball off the backboard and slamming it down, à la the Tracy McGrady self alley-oops of the early 2000s. Such displays were generally not welcome by coaches and other players, as Clifton recounted to the Sun-Times: “I realized that, being the first black, I couldn’t do anything people’d notice. So I had to play their type of game—straight, nothing fancy. No back-hand passes. It kept me from doing things people might enjoy.”

Restraints notwithstanding, in 16 total years in the NBA, the Globetrotters and touring team spinoffs, Clifton secured a legacy as a critical figure in the evolution of basketball from brutal, floor-bound East Coast roots to the high-flying global phenomenon it is now. “More so than being one of the first African-Americans, along with Chuck Cooper and Earl Lloyd, he really shifted the game,” Guigui says.

Clifton developed his innovative style alongside basketball geniuses like Marques Haynes and Goose Tatum, who were his Globetrotter teammates. That franchise’s beginnings trace not in Harlem, but to the South Side neighborhood in Chicago where he grew up.

***

Since the age of 6, when his family moved from Arkansas, Clifton saw some of the finest basketball players of the Depression Era play in and around the South Side Boys Club.

Al “Runt” Pullins, a prodigiously gifted 5-8 scorer with the original Globetrotters, “was about the greatest I had ever seen. That’s who I copied most of my style from,” Clifton said on a 1985 episode of Once a Star.

Clifton took to heart what he watched the young men do, and became a star at DuSable High School and Xavier University in Louisiana. Not just in basketball, either. Sweets was considered an even better baseball player, so good that in the late 1940s, he was on the cusp of the majors after leading a minor league in home runs, total bases and batting about .350, according to Chicago sportswriter Sam Smith. He was even more intriguing to the likes of Cleveland Indians owner Bill Veeck after success in a higher minor league, batting over .300 and again leading in homers and RBIs.

Afraid he’d lose one of his star players, Globetrotters owner Abe Saperstein quickly arranged for Sweets to play on a world tour, Smith wrote in the 2014 Hall of Fame enshrinement guide.

Clifton’s life changed forever in 1950, a year holding the same importance in basketball annals as 1947 when Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s major league color barrier. Yet for decades, Hollywood has largely ignored this monumental turning point.

That changes soon.

Sweetwater, the first major motion picture focusing on the NBA’s first years—is now in production and is scheduled to come out next year, according to director Martin Guigui and IMDb.com. The plot centers on two eventful stints in 1950—the NBA Draft and signing of Clifton, as well as the week around Halloween when Lloyd, Cooper and Clifton “were sort of pitted against each other in a race to see who would be the first black NBA player,” Guigui says.

The roughly $20-million film will star the 6-3 Wood Harris, who’s perhaps best known as Avon Barksdale from The Wire and made his film debut in the 1994 drama Above the Rim with Tupac Shakur. The ensemble also includes Nathan Lane (Saperstein), James Caan (Ned Irish) and Ludacris (musician Louis Jordan).

Sweetwater will draw inevitable comparisons to the 2013 Jackie Robinson biopic 42. Clifton, like Robinson, had to deal with persistent, vile streams of racism that could make even Donald Sterling blush. Yet both pioneers overcame the adversity. Robinson played in six All-Star games while Clifton played in the NBA All-Star Game in 1957 at the age of 34—to this day that remains the oldest age of a first-time All-Star.

“Sweetwater’s fight for acceptance in the basketball world is an example of the struggle faced by so many African-Americans at that time,” NBA Commissioner Adam Silver says. “As one of the NBA’s first African-American stars, he not only laid the groundwork for the League to become the diverse institution it is today but also help drive social progress across the country.”

But Clifton and Robinson got to this end in different ways. Robinson was famously stoic in the face of opponents’ taunts, especially in public and during games. Clifton usually was, too. Except when too much was too much.

Once, during an exhibition game against Boston, Sweets threw a dazzling pass past Celtic Bob Harrison. Harrison didn’t appreciate the style points at all, Clifton told the Sun-Times in 1986. “He said, ‘No nigger do that to me,’” recalled Clifton. “It was a one-lick fight. I was lucky enough to knock him out.”

Clifton was not only a fighter, but a lover who enjoyed the New York nightlife. Sweetwater will depict his affair with a high-society orchestra vocalist who aspired to sing the blues. “She’s a white woman who wants to live in a black man’s world and Sweetwater was a black man wanting to live in what was then a white man’s world,” Guigui says.

Clifton played in the NBA for eight seasons with the Knicks and then the Pistons. He spent much of the last 30 years of his life driving a yellow cab around Chicago, sometimes picking up the NBA stars for whom he’d help pave the road to millions. More than a few times, an older passenger would peer at him for a minute, seeing something familiar in his pronounced chin and massive hands.

They would ask, “Have you got a brother or something like that playing ball?’” Sweetwater told Once a Star documentarians while driving his taxi. Clifton would then tell the passenger who he was. They’d respond “No, you’re not Sweetwater.”

“I’ll say, Well, I guess I’m not then, if you say so.”

Sweetwater had reasons to be bitter but was not.

After decades of travel, he relished being back home, able to care for his ailing mother, his three children and later their children. Sometimes, he’d drive by Carter Playground, lift his overweight frame from the black seat cushion and play three-on-three with neighborhood kids.

Money was tight—he never made more than $12,500 in a year of pro ball and he didn’t receive the pension that NBA players who retired after 1964 would get—but he had family, he had a community and he had a craft. “I’m the best cab driver in Chicago and if I’m not, I’m at least the fourth or fifth best,” he told the Sun-Times in 1988, two years before he died from a heart attack while behind the wheel.

It wasn’t a life to which today’s NBA stars aspire, but it still held vast riches. Perhaps nothing shows this better than the end of the Once a Star episode. Sweetwater sits on his wooden front porch, beaming at his two young grandchildren as he holds them on his knees. Soon, his daughter, his mother and a small army of neighborhood children join them.

Far and few are point guards who can endure 14-plus NBA seasons’ worth of wear and tear and still start for a Championship team. Indeed only one player—Jason Kidd (2011)—has ever done it.

Will Tony Parker join his company in 2015-16?

Parker’s innate ability to pull this off is by now unquestionable. A four-time champion, he most recently led the Spurs to the summit just 15 months ago, and last season was brilliant in flashes—most notably in March when the Spurs sliced through all comers including the eventual champion Golden State Warriors. The table seemed set for a run at a fifth title of the Parker/Ginobili/Duncan era.

Then, in April, the wheels came off. Lingering ankle, Achilles and quad injuries hamstrung Parker’s effectiveness in the first round against the Clippers. It was no surprise Los Angeles’ Playoff series win coincided with by far the worst Playoff run of Parker’s career. That nightmare punctuated the worst regular season since Parker’s rookie year in many statistical categories.

The nagging injuries, painful remnants of the quicksilver dervish Parker once was, are a major reason for the drop-off. But natural aging has caused some of the slide, too. All 33-year-old veterans have to figure out ways to compensate for lost quickness, but outside of an Andre Miller here, a Pablo Prigioni there, not too many have to figure it out against the gauntlet of velociraptors who are now at the top of Parker’s position. Moreover, the 6-1 Parker isn’t blessed with the same size and strength that the 6-4 Kidd had during the Dallas Mavericks’ 2011 title run.

But this is the Spurs. San Antonio will scheme to minimize the time Parker spends chasing the likes of Russell Westbrook, Chris Paul and Steph Curry. In the regular season that will mean less time for Parker on the floor, but with the end goal in mind he will be more than willing to downgrade to a more secondary role.

Expect coach Gregg Popovich to use the season’s first few months to finetune the spacing of a revamped Spurs lineup that will surround Parker with more mobile and better shooting big men like LaMarcus Aldridge and David West. As a result of the heightened attention his frontcourt mates will receive, Parker will benefit from more open driving lanes to help offset his diminishing first step. Expect more corner three-pointers, an increasingly potent part of his game, as well.

Don’t let Parker’s recent shooting woes for Team France during this month’s EuroBasket tournament fool you. While some of France’s big men are quite mobile, none of them command the defensive attention Duncan, Aldridge and West do. Parker’s shot will come back around with the right teammates.

He and Popovich will do everything in their power to make sure it’s rolling come next April, when he, Ginobili and Duncan plan to start a final post-season together. “We’re going for a last try, a last crack at it to try to win it all,” he said this summer.

Tony 2.0 can’t get to the cup anything like Tony 1.0 once did, but he still has a Top 40-worthy mix of savvy, skill and talent to drive all the way to the Larry O’Brien trophy. Whether his body can stand up to that final push is a different question.

That’s pretty much the only way a 19-year-old gets business advice from Mark Cuban and before the 2015 Draft got to spend a month consulting NBA scouts and analysts. Ambition also propelled Carver to brainstorm a multi-metric algorithm to rank history’s greatest NBA players, then pen a 334-page book about it.

The book, Ranketology, has helped open doors for the Kansas City area native to executives and analysts from nearly every NBA team. Last November, he got a phone call from Larry Bird while sitting in a business class at the University of Arkansas. Carver interviewed the Indiana Pacers’ president of basketball operations for a midlevelexceptional.com article, then got Bird intrigued enough by his book to request a copy.

“He treated me like an adult. I didn’t expect that,” Carver says. “I expected him to think, ‘Hey, this is a college kid. I’m doing you a favor even talking to you.’”

Two months later, the Indiana Pacers hosted the business management major during a game and mixer at Bird’s request. While no NBA team has yet hired Carver as an intern, he might have already set a record as the youngest volunteer NBA consultant when he put in 40-hour weeks crunching numbers involving post-injury analysis on certain draft prospects.

Carver doesn’t want to divulge research specifics but says he has gotten good feedback on the four project reports he delivered. Carver hopes this work is a first step to one day making basketball personnel decisions in an NBA front office.

That dream puts him in the same boat as, oh, perhaps 10 million other college students around the world. So what makes this kid special? Why do NBA brass give him the time of day?

Number two: He thinks outside the box, then backs up the rationale with data.

Pairing disruptive innovation with deliberate process is increasingly de rigeur in the modern NBA, where teams like San Antonio Spurs and the Golden State Warriors rule. This new culture is embodied at all levels, from commissioner Adam Silver—who last year openly advocated for the legalization of online sports betting in the United States—to D-League teams like the Reno Bighorns which have served as a kind of pro petri dish for Grinnell College’s system of turbo-charged tempo.

Carver blazes his own path along these lines with his book’s most controversial verdict. Like so many other hoopheads he always considered Bill Russell among the top-three greatest NBA players ever. But he and his colleagues discovered different after hammering out a definition for “greatness.”

Carver et al defined on-court “greatness” as a cocktail of 19 metrics, most involving individual statistics (basic and advanced), individual accolades and titles won. Each metric is weighted as part of an overall formula so, for example, regular-season MVPs matter more than career points per game average.

While Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Michael Jordan, Wilt Chamberlain and Shaquille O’Neal form Ranketology’s Top 4 through the 2013-14 season, the Boston Celtics legend with 11 rings isn’t found until the No. 23 spot.

Initially that result shocked Carver, but after looking into it, he saw most of Russell’s individual stats pale compared to the 74 other all-time greats’ whose numbers were crunched. Russell was 66th in career points per game, 42nd in career PER, and 31st in All-NBA First-Team selections.

“Oftentimes, he would win the regular-season MVP award despite not being named to the All-NBA First-Team,” Carver says. “Voters agreed he was the most ‘valuable’ player to the team, but he was not a better player than Chamberlain at center.”

Carver is careful to add if a definition for “greatness” involves off-court production criteria, Russell easily ranks higher. He was the League’s first African American superstar, breaking multiple barriers at all levels, including one as the NBA’s first black player-coach. “You can’t call Russell overrated, because his contribution to the League and to society was astounding.”

Carver himself once dreamed of making his name in the sport as a player, following in the footsteps of his dad (who played for Kansas State) and an older brother who played for Holy Cross.

Unfortunately, a series of major health issues permanently sidelined those dreams in high school. The first diagnosis was ulcerative colitis. The 6-3 guard from Shawnee, KS, then discovered his body can’t produce enough adrenaline for high-level sports. Max effort in sprints and weight-lifting produced about 60 percent of the output others got for the same effort. “Basically, what they’re telling me is that I was screwed from the start.”

It got even worse.

Early in his junior season, Carver spent a 16-day stint in the hospital and lost 35 pounds. Upon release he visited a gym to run suicides.

Later that year he experienced abnormal heart palpitations, dizziness, blood pressure spikes and “three or four” more hospital stays. “When I was running, it felt like I was being hung upside down.”

Carver recalls most of his final high school game as a blur. He stayed on court by tracking his opponent’s orange shoelaces. They were all he could see of the man he was guarding.

“My mom was very scared. Every game, it wasn’t even like, ‘I hope Johnny plays well today.’ It was more like, ‘I hope Johnny stays conscious today.’”

After a final diagnosis of autonomic dysfunction, a broad term entailing breakdowns in the nervous system, Carver knew his playing days were over. But those long hospital stays had an unexpected silver lining. They allowed him plenty time to figure out a way to stay involved with the game which had been “my entire life.” He started to write Ranketology.

These days, after anti-inflammatory blood infusions and a daily dose of 13 medications, Carver feels much better. Sure, he still occasionally passes out when standing, but Carver hasn’t been hospitalized since starting college last fall. That’s big.

Also big: A few weeks ago, after more than a year and a half away from the gym, Carver played a little ball with high school buddies. He launched them from deep again, and relished it. Because through all the pain and heartache of his playing days, shooting had been “the one thing always in my control. I was so weak, I couldn’t box out sometimes. I was so fatigued, I couldn’t run up and down the floor very much.”

“I couldn’t keep up with my man, but I knew I could always shoot.”

Only the goal has changed.

***

This week, Evin Demirel will be reporting live from the Nike EYBL Peach Jam. For more Arkansas-related sports news, check out his Best of Arkansas Sports site.

In the 15 years since Reggie Miller became the most prolific three-point shooter in NBA Playoff history, the League has become faster and far more perimeter-oriented. Given that many teams have been shooting threes at a higher clip than ever, it’s not surprising Miller’s time atop this list finally came to an end.

Indeed, it’s more notable Miller’s 58 treys mark actually lasted as long as it did, with the likes of Ray Allen and Danny Green making serious recent runs at it.

But now, of course, comes a baby-faced assassin who doesn’t so much break records as send them into large hadron colliders for de-particalization. By now, you know NBA MVP Stephen Curry owns the two best three-point shooting regular seasons in NBA history and in the last round against Houston topped Miller’s post-season mark.

Curry now has 73 three-pointers this postseason, which is a terrifying pace when put in historic perspective. At this rate, he’s on track to almost lap Miller’s No. 2 all-time mark.

So how unique, exactly, has Curry’s post-season streak been?

To shed light here, I’ve pit Curry’s performance so far against the most torrid three-point shooting performances in the best and most pressure-packed postseasons outside the NBA Playoffs. Those include NCAA Division I’s March Madness, a Spanish basketball league often ranked as the best in Europe and the top international basketball league outside of the NBA.

Curry’s extraterrestrial separation from the pack is partly attributable to the fact the NBA Playoffs are so much longer—up to 28 possible games—than March Madness or Euroleague playoffs. So he has been able to not only get hot, but stay hot and pile up the stats longer than other top bombers.

Usually, opponents in a long series spend plenty of time analyzing and gameplanning for superstar shooter’s tendencies and preferred spots on the court. They aim to make the shooter uncomfortable. Curry, however, seems to relish contorting his body into awkward positions and actually practices shooting from uncomfortable positions.

He has a killer instinct that’s not only directed at opponents, but at his own tendencies and comfort zones. In this age of analytics that’s a powerful tool for a man wanting “to obliterate every shooting bounty put before him on the practice floor,” as SI.com’s Rob Mahoney writes. “He wants to not only whittle down his turnovers, but do so while still breaking ankles and throwing no-look passes as he likes. It’s not enough for Curry to have his cake and eat it, too. Give him a slice and he’ll come back for the bakery.”

The question now is this: Can Curry and his Warriors keep up their pace in an NBA Finals that they are 6-point favorites to win? In the above list, Curry is projected to make 103 three-pointers by the end of this postseason, assuming he hits 5 threes a game against Cleveland and that series lasts six games.

Before this year, few people would have predicted Curry could maintain such a clip through four rigorous series. Now, with Golden State so close to the prize, only a fool would predict otherwise.

*The Euroleague’s postseason typically consists of a best-of-five series in the quarterfinals and single-elimination in the semifinals and finals. Above records exclude data from 2000-01, the league’s only postseason to include two best-of-three and two best-of-five playoff rounds.

Clearly defining these words can be as elusive as reaching a consensus involving them.

We should figure out their meaning soon, though, because the phrase will only become more ubiquitous with every win Kentucky rips off from here on. The Wildcats are four tourney wins from an unprecedented 40-0 season and sparking enough G.O.A.T debates to make your head explode.

Often lost in such storms of opinion, though, is an important distinction: “best ever” can actually mean two different things. The first definition—who wins in a head-to-head matchup—is probably the more common definition. What would happen, for instance, if an old-school great team somehow took the court against this year’s Kentucky team?

Imagine firing up the DeLorean and traveling back to an era when UCLA was winning 10 of 12 national titles. Grab the late 1960s Bruins featuring Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (then Lew Alcindor) and Curtis Rowe. Since the game’s rules differ so much from then to now, find a happy medium. Perhaps play one half with the three-point shot and shot clock, one without. Allow the retro players to use a modern weight training regimen, too.

Abdul-Jabbar, who averaged 26.4 points and 15.5 rebounds per college game at UCLA, believes the best teams of his era and the mid-1950s would win such a showdown. “None of the modern teams would have been able to compete with Bill Russell’s [University of San Francisco] team or the UCLA teams because they lack the cohesion you get from staying in a program for four years,” he told SLAM. In today’s college basketball, “we would have been just as dominant as were in the ’60s. I think the fact that our players had to stay in school and could not jump to the NBA enabled them to learn the game in-depth. The one-and-done players don’t have that type of complete fundamental preparation.”

Abdul-Jabbar isn’t alone with his sentiments. For every point old-schoolers can make in defense of their generation, though, supporters of today’s system have counter arguments. Years growing up on the national AAU circuit give today’s college freshmen an opportunity to develop more cohesion playing with each other than past generations. While today’s youngsters have more distractions, technology like YouTube also expands their opportunities to develop their game in more efficient ways.

A final counter argument: talent simply trumps all. Kentucky’s current team has around 10 future NBA players on it and a handful of first-rounders. No team from the 1950s through 1970s approaches that.

Now on to the second, more measurable definition of “best ever.”

This one involves comparing how dominant teams have been relative to their own competition, in their own seasons. Here, the numbers show this year’s Kentucky squad is on track to crush its all-time competition in a specific area. That would be suffocating defense, the Wildcats’ forte and the prime reason a “Kentucky vs Field Prop Bet” field now exists for the 2015 NCAA Tournament. TheNew York Times and Sports Illustrated have recently compared the Wildcats’ defense to the best of recent defenses in recent decades, but they didn’t include the game’s greatest teams before 1980.

Why?

Possessions per game, one of the most useful metrics for comparing teams from different decades, weren’t kept when many of the oldest school titans laid waste to the countryside. And this happens to be one place where Kentucky’s defense especially shines. Another useful stat—strength of schedule—is also largely missing for the 1950s-1970s teams.

So, yes, some of the sport’s greatest teams existed before certain rule changes and the keeping of certain stats. That shouldn’t exclude them from the debate. There’s still value in comparing some traditional team stats like field-goal percentage allowed and points allowed. The average score in all Division I games fluctuates year to year, so that’s also taken into account.

The Associated Press’ Top 25 poll can serve as a poor man’s strength of schedule metric. This college basketball ranking, which has been around since Bobby Knight was in grade school, is far from perfect. But it does provide an idea—albeit a rough one—of which teams were good during the course of past seasons, which is the same function as the SOS metric.

Best-ever type teams should defend both the other team and their all-time reputations when the lights are brightest. So the following stats represent only what each team did against foes ranked in the Top 25 at game time. For the sake of comparison, two more recent defensive powers are included: Patrick Ewing’s ‘84 Georgetown Hoyas and the Ron Mercer and Derek Anderson-led ‘97 Kentucky squad, which Sports Illustrated’s Luke Winn calculated to be supremely badass when it comes to SOS and points allowed per possession.

Opponents’ Field Goal % (vs top-25 opponents)

1. Kentucky ‘15 / 33.8%

2. UCLA ‘69 / 36.9 %

3. Kentucky ‘97 / 41 %

4. UCLA ‘73 / 42.3%

5. Georgetown ‘85 / 43%

6. Indiana ‘76 / 43.4%

Difference From National Shooting Average (vs top-25 opponents)

1. Kentucky ‘15 / -9.7 %

2. UCLA ‘69 / -6.9 %

3. Georgetown ‘85 / -5.1%

4. Kentucky ‘97 / -3.5 %

5. Indiana ‘76 / -3.3 %

6. UCLA ‘73 / -2.5 %

Points Allowed Per Game (vs top-25 opponents)

1. Kentucky ‘15 / 56.8

2. UCLA ‘73 / 63.1

3. Indiana ‘76 / 64.9

4. Georgetown ‘85 / 66.4

5. Kentucky ‘97 / 67.4

6. UCLA ‘69 / 67.7

Difference From National Scoring Average (vs top-25 opponents)

1. UCLA ‘73 / -12.4

2. Indiana ‘76 / -10.8

3. Kentucky ‘15 / -10.8

4. UCLA ‘69 / -7.9

5. Kentucky ‘97 / -2.8

6. Georgetown ‘85 / -1.8

These numbers hint at how special UK’s defense is.

In its biggest games of the season so far, whether against UCLA, North Carolina, Texas, Louisville or Arkansas, it has more than stepped up to the occasion. Against top flight competition, it has defended at more than three percentage points better than UCLA in Abdul-Jabbar’s senior season.

In terms of points allowed, UCLA’s 1972-73 defense may come closest to rivaling Kentucky. In a much more high scoring era, it held top-25 opponents to an average score more than 12 points beneath the national average.

Those Bruins weren’t as deep or long as Kentucky, but they did have a unique X-factor in backup center Swen Nater. The 6-11, 240-pound Dutchman’s primary job was to provide elite competition for All-Everything junior Bill Walton in practice. “I think it was huge for us as a team and for Walton individually to go against him head-to-head” said Jamaal Wilkes, then a Bruin forward, later a three-time NBA All-Star. “He helped us as a team become more effective in driving to the basket and that sort of thing.”

Nater never started for UCLA, yet went on to star in the ABA and play 11 years in the ABA/NBA. Longtime UCLA Yoda John Wooden never needed to play him alongside the 6-11, 210-pound Walton but in a hypothetical matchup with today’s Kentucky the senior would no doubt log heavy minutes against Willie Cauley-Stein, Karl Anthony-Towns et al.

Outside of some serious Interstellar-like space-time shenanigans, nobody will ever know how much of an advantage the experience of UCLA ‘73’s upperclassmen would provide over an underclassmen-dominated team like UK ‘15. We can’t know for sure if UK ‘15’s overall talent, length and athleticism is simply too much for any team, any era, to bear.

But fortunately we have the next best thing. This season Wichita State, Gonzaga and Wisconsin all have similar levels of cohesion and experience to some great old-school squads. It’s likely Kentucky will have to overcome at least one of these teams en route to securing an unblemished crown and reserving a permanent spot in the best all-time teams debate.

Torpedoing such aspirations would be more than just a monumental win for any of the three underdog programs’ fans. It would also validate college basketball lovers like Abdul-Jabbar who still put stock in seniority.

Few players in college basketball rain down fire on rim like Arkansas junior Michael Qualls, the self-proclaimed @Mr_WalkOnAir and author of 12 SportsCenter Top 10 appearances. Last year, the 6-6 wing flushed home a last-second dunk to win an overtime thriller against a ranked Kentucky team. This year, of course, the No. 1 Wildcats are back with a vengeance and off to the best start in program history. But the 22-5 Razorbacks have improved a lot, too, boasting that program’s best start in 17 years.

Qualls, the SEC’s eighth-leading scorer, is a major of part of No. 18 Arkansas’ plans to knock off No. 1 Kentucky on the road this Saturday. SLAM recently sat down with the dunk lord to talk about the big game, growing up in a single-father household in Shreveport, LA, and his friendship with a certain Dallas Cowboys cornerback.

SLAM: Let’s get right to it. Is there a specific type in-game dunk that you’ve done that is your most favorite?

Michael Qualls: Probably every one. My high school favorite dunk used to be the windmill, and I used to have a little back dunk where I brought it down between my legs off two feet. Now that we’re in SEC big boy basketball, my favorite dunk is just any dunk putting somebody in the rim—just me going up against them.

SLAM: Are some of your dunks planned and some of them purely instinctive—like the put-back dunks? Tell me what’s going through your mind.

MQ: All of my dunks are instinctual. Every time I drive, I have it on my mind. So if I have a crease or if the ball goes off the rim and no one boxes me out, I’m gonna run and am gonna try to put it back. That’s every time. But most of the time, due to the film other teams have on me, they don’t lose me too much. When the ball’s going up, they put bodies on me and they find me. But every time I catch somebody sleeping and not boxing me out, guaranteed I’m gonna go in there.

SLAM: Are people sleeping less now that your dunks have been on SportsCenter so many times these last two seasons?

MQ: Yeah, you know, it’s hard. I try to be a player that can move without the basketball and play without the basketball—back cutting and that type of stuff. That’ll free me up, too. Like in the Alabama game, I’m cutting through and the shot goes up—bam, I’m right there. [See the 2:15 mark in the vid below]

SLAM: About that Alabama game. The second highlight dunk you did is a little Mailman style [see the 2:25 mark in this vid], no? Was that a homage to Karl Malone, also a north Louisiana native?

MQ: Actually, I did that dunk back at home in a rival game versus a rival team named Fair Park. It was just in the spare of the moment. I just wanted to make a statement because I just missed a free throw. So I just wanted to come down and make a punctualization on the game, and that’s what I did. They told me it was Karl Malone’s dunk, but I didn’t even have a clue.

SLAM: Other times, you’re flexing and kissing your biceps after a dunk. That’s not a la Karl Malone either?

MQ:[Shaking head, laughing] That’s crazy, I guess it’s just a lineage growing. Because I do what I do at the spur of the moment. If I feel I made a strong physical play, I give them a kiss or flash them.

SLAM: Looking ahead to Kentucky, do you think Arkansas performs better against Calipari-led Kentucky teams than most other SEC schools?

MQ: You know, I just feel for the most part we step up to the occasion. We don’t like people sleeping on us, so of course Kentucky is a big game for us, like for everybody. Everybody who has a chance to play them, I am pretty sure likes to step up to the occasion. [Against Kentucky] we come with that edge every year. Since I have been here, we haven’t lost to them. So to us, we’re the better team. We’re the top dogs. Not to shy away from what they do, because they are one of the best basketball teams in the country every year.

SLAM: Of course, it’s a different UK team this year with many different players. How do you expect you will perform? How do you expect the team will perform on the road in this game?

MQ: I am sure we are going to come out and play with our hearts, just like we do every game. I feel that our young guys will follow our leads. I think Bobby Portis is going to come, he is going to play big, like he’s played all season. I know we will step up to the occasion.

SLAM: When you get attention for the dunks, for the highlights, do you feel a little bit anxious that may be taking a lot of attention away from your teammates?

MQ: No, I really don’t, because most of those plays either came from a shot that they missed or a lob or alley play so they’re getting me involved. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have a lot of those plays. For the most part, it’s off a good assist or a good pass or a good defense that leads to them getting me the ball. They know I don’t hold any type of ego issues or nothing like that. We all have the utmost faith for each other.

SLAM: This whole theme of Arkansas returning to national prominence has gone on for years now. What do you think defines when Arkansas is back? How do you define that breakthrough?

MQ: When we have the respect that I feel we deserve. Because right now, it’s still not quite there. [Others say] we have a great duo, but they’ve got a better team. We are heading in a better direction. But then when everybody starts saying we are not heading in the right direction, but we are there. That’s when we’re gonna be there. When you say, without a doubt, that Arkansas is one of the best teams, that’s when we will be finally be there.

SLAM: In order for this team to take the next step, where do you have to improve the most?

MQ: I need to just be the guy. When everything goes down to the tip of the wire and it’s time to just man up. Who are we gonna need to bring this toughness, to bring whatever it is—whether it’s the game on the line, and you need the big shot, you need a big stop, you need a big block, you need to encourage someone? I think I am that guy to bring that passion to this team.

SLAM: Let’s talk about your past. Growing up, did you personally know or look up to any big-time basketball players in the area?

MQ: No. To be honest, we didn’t have too many positive role models coming up. Or I didn’t—especially in Shreveport. We had like Stromile Swift—he was one of the only basketball guys that went to a big time level, an SEC school, and made it to the next level. We had Morris Claiborne—he’s a friend of mine—but he played football.

SLAM: Are you and Morris communicating often?

MQ: Yeah, he’ll holler at me from time to time if I’m back at home and he’s not doing his profession. Yeah, we’ll meet up and talk.

SLAM: Ya’ll ball together back in Shreveport?

MQ: Yeah, he used to play basketball and football for Fair Park. Matter of fact, my freshman year, he had dunked on a guy on our team. It was crazy, I had never seen nothing like it. Morris, he’s a crazy athlete.

SLAM: You’ve got a 2-year-old-son, Michael Qualls Jr. How often are you able to talk to him during the season?

MQ: I talk to him every day. I try to get him. My child’s mother, she plays here (at the UA) so I either FaceTime him or call him. I don’t really get to see him [in person] that much ’cause I stay far away, but whenever my people can get him here I embrace that. He’ll come out and spend the weekend with me. But whenever we do spend time, it’s special. I understand I can’t be with him how I want to right now, but I try to keep my mind focused, and I try to use this as motivation to keep going.

SLAM: He stays with relatives in Shreveport?

MQ: He stays with my grandmother and my dad and her mother, alternating.

SLAM: And I know your dad was a single parent growing up. That’s different because it seems you hear a lot about basketball stars growing up with a single mother, but tell me your story.

MQ: There were issues…they gave custody to my father so I moved away from Georgia to Shreveport. You know, a lot of people don’t have their fathers—especially in black households in the South. But I was blessed to have mine, and he just taught me to be a man. There are a lot of times when he had to go work because he had to put food on the table, so Grandma used to watch me. And it’s ironic now because here I am now trying to put food on the table and my dad, he’s a grandfather, he is taking care of my son.

SLAM: The tattoos on your left shoulder look like they are about family. What do they say?

MQ: My life—this is Vera, my grandmother; Anthony, that’s my father, and Michael Jr—my son. And these are three people that I hold to the highest standards and these are the three people that am working for.

SLAM: Does your son come with you to gym and to practice here in Fayetteville?

MQ: Whenever my dad has the time to bring him up here, he’ll come here and he’ll just be running around in the stands. He’ll be with Mrs. Anderson, Coach’s A’s wife, and his mother just watching me practice.

In today’s NBA, there’s little question as to which states are currently home to the league’s best shooters. We have Georgia, where the Hawks’ Kyle Korver and his historic, record-setting 50/50/90 pace reside. And there’s California, where NBA three-point shooting champion Steph Curry and hoopwhispering running mate Kyle Thompson have put any doubts regarding their status as The L’s all-time best shooting backcourt into a small tinder box, lit said box, then thrown its quivering ashes into the Pacific Ocean.

But which states can lay claim to being the first home to the best three-point shooters throughout all of NBA/ABA history? That’s to say, on the whole, what states have produced the most accurate (and most errant) bombers in each league?

On the surface, California—native state for the likes of Korver, Thompson, Reggie Miller and Tracy Murray—would seem like a top contender here. But Cali has also produced long-range bricklayers like Russell Westbrook and Antoine Wright, who drag down the overall three-point percentage produced by all its native NBA players. So, California actually ranks No. 12.

The most sharpshooting states are mostly in the rural north, where there’s not much else to do but spend endless hours arcing away in an empty gym, perfecting the game’s bedrock skill. It also helps if you’re, like, your state’s only NBA player.

First thing’s first: New Hampshire? No. 1?

Yes. It’s true. The Granite State rocks this metric on the burly, flamethrowin’ shoulders of Matt Bonner, forward for the defending champion San Antonio Spurs and the third-most likely team to win the 2015 West Conference crown. To this day the Red Rocket is the one and only NBA player NH has ever produced. Some say this is cheating. But the fact Concord isn’t a blacktop mecca isn’t New Hampshire’s fault.

We get into multiple NBA native son territory with most other states. It should be noted some of the game’s great shooters moved a lot in childhood. Steve Kerr, for instance, was born in Lebanon. So although he high schooled in California, he doesn’t help boost that state’s numbers. And because Trajan Langdon just had to be born in California before moving to Alaska early on, Alaska drops a couple of spots. Likewise, Steph Curry’s Akron birth and Charlotte upbringing means North Carolina’s loss, but Ohio’s gain.

With that out of the way, let’s proceed. Below are the two most accurate three-point shooters born in each state. Keep in mind:

– Only players with a career minimum of 200 three-point field goals made are included.

– Top two players ranked by who has the higher percentage, to a tenth of a percentage point (not shown)

OK, enough of the nerdilization. Forget the metrics for sec. In your opinion, who’s the best pure shooter, the most talented shooter, the one with the sweetest stroke—that your state has ever produced?

No. 1 Kentucky is far from unbeatable, and a 88-85 overtime win at home on Tuesday night simply proved what any astute observer already knows: Nothing is a cakewalk at the sport’s highest levels. It’s this very fact, though, which confirms these Wildcats are still on track to become one of the best defensive teams in major college basketball history.

After Kentucky limited No. 5 Louisville to 50 points and all of one assist nearly two weeks ago, Cardinals coach Rick Pitino called Kentucky “one of the greatest defensive teams I’ve seen in my 40 years because they can switch and not cause a mismatch, they move their feet, they block shots.” Pitino should know. He orchestrated Kentucky 1995-96 and Louisville 2012-13, two of the modern game’s most impressive defensive teams. Louisville ‘13 allowed its foes to shoot only 39.5 percent and score 58.8 points a game; Kentucky ‘96 allowed a 41.5 percent field-goal clip and 69.4 points per game while playing at a faster pace.

Still, those numbers pale in comparison to Kentucky which through 14 games is keeping opponents to 31.1 percent shooting and 50.6 points per game. Such stats are great for any era of the last 60 years, on par with defensive maestros Bill Russell and KC Jones’ most dominant college team.

The Wildcats’ length and athleticism has impressed Craig Esherick, an assistant coach on the 1983-84 Georgetown team which won a National Championship behind Patrick Ewing. The star center was one of six Hoya players that season whom Esherick considered among the top-10 defenders at their position. The ‘84 Hoyas, which featured stoppers like 6-7 David Wingate and 6-5 Fred Brown in front of Ewing, were especially stifling against their best opponents. In its first game against a top-25 opponent, Georgetown limited DePaul to 26 field goals on 59 attempts. It didn’t get much better for Georgetown’s other top-25 opponents, as you can see in below:

Compare this to the four games Kentucky has so far played against top-25 opponents:

2014-15 Kentucky Defense

While Georgetown was slightly tougher in limiting elite opponents’ accuracy, 43 percent to 44.3 percent, the difference in points and assists allowed per game is astounding. When the lights are brightest, Kentucky has been on par (and in some cases far better than) its G.O.A.T. predecessors. Esherick still considers that ‘84 Georgetown defense the best of all time, and he won’t judge whether the Wildcats are better until after the season plays out. But he does find what Kentucky has done so far all the more impressive because today’s offenses are more difficult to contain.

In an interview with SLAM, Esherick added he believes today’s players are more skilled in passing, dribbling, shooting than players in the 1980s. Plus, “Calipari’s team is bigger than we were, and his big guys can move their feet very well. I’ve been impressed with how [last year’s] high school stars have bought into the defense.”

Digger Phelps, a long-time college basketball analyst and former head coach at Notre Dame, has studied and coached against most of Kentucky’s rivals for best all-time defense. He’s impressed with Kentucky’s ability to rebound, alter shots, block and steal inbound passes when pressing and that the older Wildcat players have taken the lead in defensive intensity. “This has taken the pressure off of the freshmen who have blended in,” he said.

One of those players, 6-10 forward Trey Lyles, has shown rapid improvement in recent weeks. In the opening minutes against Ole Miss, he quickly closed out on a three-point attempt by 6-3 Jarvis Summers for one of Kentucky’s seven blocks** on the night. Another one came just a couple minutes later when the Rebels’ 6-6 LaDarius White received a pass at the top of the arc and took two long dribbles down the right side of the paint. White then launched into the air for what should have been a floater or layup against most teams.

Not at Rupp.

Swooping into the frame from behind was 7-footer Willie Cauley-Stein, who obliterated White’s attempt and sent him sliding into photographers under the stanchion while deflecting the ball to point guard Tyler Eulis.

No team in college basketball history can match Kentucky’s overall height, which features three 6-6 guards and six players at 6-9 or taller. In limited minutes Cauley-Stein is proving just as disruptive a defender as Bill Walton was for UCLA, or Bill Russell for the University of San Francisco, or Stacey Augmon for UNLV. Yet those stars didn’t have the same quality of mobile bigs surrounding them.

Augmon’s 1990-91 UNLV Runnin’ Rebels, which finished 34-1 and were forcing 20.5 turnovers a game while limiting foes to 38 percent shooting*** two and half months into that season, no doubt were an imposing force. But 2014-15 Kentucky has been superior in overall team defensive statistics despite playing better opponents. “UNLV was not as big and physical as this team,” added Phelps, now an analyst for Campus Insiders. “Kentucky has more half-court physical dominance because of their size.”

Plus, the Wildcats have more depth. UNLV ‘91 had five future NBA players, and four future first rounders including a No. 1 overall pick in Larry Johnson. NBAdraft.net predicts Kentucky has seven future NBA players—including five future first rounders. More offensive firepower in practice translates into better defense in games.

Yes, Kentucky failed to play to its defensive potential in its SEC opener. For too long in the first half it acted like it was playing Buffalo or Boston U. instead of dialing in like it did against UCLA and Kansas. Despite the hiccup, it’s still an overwhelming favorite in its next game against Texas A&M. Kentucky is still, by far, the SEC title frontrunner. And they’re still the overwhelming favorite to win the 2015 NCAA basketball championship.

Ole Miss couldn’t knock off the Wildcats, but at some point in the next 17 SEC games somebody will. The conference is on the upswing, as underrated in basketball as it was overrated in football. Every team will treat Kentucky like a title bout.

When that first loss happens, how much shine will it take off Kentucky’s historic start? Digger Phelps**** believes it’s hard to gauge yet how good Kentucky is because “until this point Kentucky has played name schools but the schools are having a down year, with the exception of Louisville.” He points out Kansas lost at Temple, UCLA has lost five straight games, North Carolina lost to Iowa, Notre Dame and Butler, while Texas was blown out at home by Oklahoma, and also lost to the Huskies at home. Still, Kentucky’s early season strength of schedule is better than most of its G.O.A.T. predecessors and it is far superior to the Virginia Cavaliers’ (the only program this season approaching the Wildcats in overall defensive rankings).

Looking beyond mere numbers, let’s not forget great defense reflects great chemistry. Great college teams are made of great teammates: They hustle to cover each other’s mistakes when they genuinely like each other. So far, Kentucky coach John Calipari has done a masterful job of keeping everybody’s egos in check and minutes equally distributed. But that could change as the games get increasingly tough, Calipari’s two-platoon system continues to go by the wayside and certain players have to take back seats to others.

Sophomore point guard Andrew Harrison has lately been especially up-and-down. What happens if coaches decide freshman Tyler Ulis—who’s been a more consistent force with the exception of the Ole Miss game—starts getting more minutes as a closer? If Andrew doesn’t take kindly to that demotion, would his attitude affect his twin Aaron’s play? This is just a thought experiment, not meant to reflect what so far as been a very cohesive unit, but it is the sort of issue that crops up in teams loaded with former prep superstars.

External pressures always mount at Kentucky as the season rolls on. How its still relatively inexperienced players deal with them behind closed doors will dictate how many records they break on the court. “As you get into the season, you don’t know how to deal with controversy until it happens, and it’s gonna happen,” says Bobby Wilkerson, who in the mid 1970s was part of one of the best defensive backcourts ever.

Wilkerson’s 1975-76 Indiana Hoosiers were the last undefeated Division I champions. He firsthand knows how tough it is to “sacrifice with the right heart and to come together for the same goals” without let up.

There’s a million and one ways a modern big-time basketball program can go off track in the glare of a nation’s Klieg light. Guarding against this will be the Wildcats’ toughest assignment of all.

*Georgetown statistics courtesy of the Georgetown Basketball History Project. Steals and blocks were not then included in official box scores.
** Kentucky averages 8.1 blocks per game. The all-time NCAA leader is Georgetown ‘89, which behind Dikembe Mutombo and Alonzo Mourning averaged 9.1. blocks a game. Esherick, also an assistant on that team, considers it an inferior defensive team to Patrick Ewing-era Hoyas because its perimeter defense was not as strong.
*** According to a February 13, 1991 article in The Record (Bergen County, NJ).
**** Phelps believes the best defensive teams of all time are the Bill Walton-era UCLA Bruins of the early 1970s, 1975-76 Indiana and Duke’s national title teams. Follow him @DiggerPhelps and @CampusInsiders.

On Thursday night, Arkansas’ basketball program has a chance to announce to the world it’s officially back. To show a primetime national audience that “40 Minutes of Hell” is alive, well and snarling, and to throw just a little shade on No. 1 Kentucky’s presumably wide open path to a conference title.

More than conference bragging rights are on the line when the 6-0 Hogs clash with 4-1 Iowa State in Ames, IA, at 8 p.m. on ESPN 2. No. 20 Iowa State looks to build off its Sweet 16 appearance last season and right the ship after a surprise loss to Maryland on November 25. No. 18 Arkansas, meanwhile, can rise to levels not seen since its early to mid 1990s heyday.

The Razorbacks, in the top five nationally in scoring, three-point accuracy, assists and turnovers forced, will try to disrupt the nation’s leader in assist-to-turnover ratio—Cyclone point guard Monte Morris. “Hopefully we can get the game to where it’s an up and down game, where depth is going to determine the outcome,” Arkansas coach Mike Anderson said. “We have to go up there, play with confidence, play with poise. There’s going to be some adversity, trust me.”

Iowa State generated dark horse Final Four talk entering the season and has been given nearly twice as good of odds to win the 2015 NCAA Championship as Arkansas. But a Razorback win shifts the dark horse label a couple states southward. Earlier this week, Arkansas clocked in at No. 9 in the RPI rankings which help determine seeding in the NCAA Tournament. Arkansas last had a top-10 RPI ranking two decades ago.

In the days when Big Nasty and Crew were steamrolling to a National Title and consecutive Final Four appearances, Arkansas exacted its will on practically anybody, anywhere, any time. “I thought the reason I was successful was that I played different than everybody else,” said Nolan Richardson, Arkansas’ coach from 1985 to 2002. “You had to go have seven or eight guys to do what I did with five. I never worked off of what you did. I don’t care what you do.”

Richardson’s ferocious full-court pressing style is no longer unique, but it’s still deadly in the right hands. Other coaches such as Virginia Commonwealth University’s Shaka Smart have adopted its principles for their own. Smart’s “Havoc” defense routinely paces the nation in steals, deflections and turnover margin and powered VCU’s drive to the 2011 Final Four. “Nolan Richardson is a mentor of mine,” Smart told Nooga.com. “Even though I met him only one time and he probably doesn’t know who I am.* But I study him. In our office, we have a stat sheet from the Arkansas team in 1993-94. People say we’re pretty good at playing fast. Statistically, we’re nothing compared to that team.”

Mike Anderson doesn’t need paper to reminisce on Arkansas’ only national championship team. He was Richardson’s trusty assistant coach almost every step of the way, and as head coach he’s put his own spin on his mentor’s M.O., calling it the Fastest 40 Minutes in Basketball. It’s essentially the same thing. The main difference: It hasn’t yet propelled Anderson’s teams to the same heights Richardson reached.

Statistical trends portend this is the season Anderson will return the Razorbacks to the NCAA Tournament for the first time since 2008, and potentially to the Sweet Sixteen for the first time since 1996. The program has steadily improved since Anderson arrived four years ago. Last year, the Razorbacks barely missed making the tourney cut. This team returns six of the top seven scorers and has so far proven to be Anderson’s deepest, strongest, most athletic, most experienced and best shooting yet.

Anderson has at last filled his roster with players he recruited to his system. Richardson did the same thing in his first four years at Arkansas. By 1988-89, Richardson had brought in blue chippers like Ron Huery, Todd Day and Oliver Miller who would form the nucleus of the Hogs’ 1990 Final Four run. Similarly, highly rated prep players Bobby Portis and Rashad Madden (signed by predecessor John Pelphrey) form part of the current team’s core. Junior forward Michael Qualls, who has the college game’s most legit claim to the alias “Mr. #SCTop10,” wasn’t considered a blue chip but he’s playing a five-star level now with about 15 points and 5 rebounds per game along with stellar defense.

As with the original, defense fuels offense in today’s versions of “40 Minutes of Hell.” Sharpening defensive instincts means more turnovers and more shot opportunities. “It’s a great equalizer,” former VCA assistant Will Wade told Nooga.com. “When you play teams that are a little bit bigger, a little bit stronger, maybe have a little bit more talent than you, the system allows you to have a chance.”

This was never more evident than last season when Arkansas, then unranked, beat Kentucky at home and on the road. The latter signaled Arkansas had started to vanquish its chronic road struggles since the late 1990s. A road win against SMU last week provided more proof, and a win in Ames, IA, would signal these Razorbacks are better suited for March Madness than any of their 21st-century predecessors.

“This team has to make the tournament,” Portis told USA Today. “It is our time.”

Coaches may not want to admit it, but when it comes to post-season success, the writing is often already on the wall before conference play even begins. Selection committees don’t look kindly on teams which flunk big early season showdowns on the road or neutral courts. It’s no coincidence Arkansas’ glory years ended around the same time it stopped winning these games.**

Richardson and Anderson fielded their best teams when their rosters feature tenacious yet heady guards who prized defense and could handle the point. Arlyn Bowers and Lee Mayberry in the early 1990s, and Corey Beck and Clint McDaniel in the mid 1990s, were prime examples.

In 1981, Richardson won an NIT championship in Tulsa with Mike Anderson at the helm. “He wasn’t the most talented of the guards that I coached, but nobody played as hard as he played,” Richardson said. “Nobody sacrificed his body as much as he did. I mean he would take a charge on a godd**n freight train. They don’t do that no more.”

Constant turnover at the combo guard position contributed to Arkansas’ recent road struggles. Talented underclassmen like Patrick Beverley, Courtney Fortson and Rotnei Clarke briefly flourished but invariably left before their senior seasons. Six-foot-five Rashad Madden, now a senior, did stick around. But he wasn’t playing to his strengths last season by having to log major minutes as the primary ball-handler. Two point guards—freshman Anton Beard and junior college transfer Jabril Durham—have helped Madden so far this year but neither player has yet experienced the kind of frenzied, hostile atmosphere that Iowa State’s Hilton Coliseum presents.

Most Razorback storylines revolve around the program’s mainstays—Richardson, Anderson, the veteran players. Yet Arkansas’ ability to reclaim its past glory ultimately boils down to whether its first-year guards can keep cool and shoot steady in unfriendly arenas. “We got discombobulated in the final few minutes of games,” Portis said, recalling the 2013-14 Hogs’ seven losses in 10 road games. “Are we going to finish teams off? That’s the biggest question.”

***

*Richardson definitely knows who Smart is. He recalled talking to him during a recent Final Four. Smart asked Richardson why adopted his unorthodox tactics when he was a young high school coach: “I was explaining to him, ‘You know, I had these little Mexican kids in El Paso. Every play was a jump shot. You ain’t going to beat nobody shooting jump shots every play. We couldn’t get to the basket we were so small. We only got one shot,” Richardson recalled. “I started out just like everyone else drawing plays and all that. But we weren’t beating anybody. It wasn’t getting me anywhere until I started running and trapping and double teaming.”

** November 29, 1997 was the last time Arkansas beat a ranked team on a neutral court in pre-conference play. Arkansas beat No. 17 Fresno State in Phoenix. And December 6, 1992 was the last time the program scored such a win on the road. The Hogs beat No. 9 Arizona in Tucson, AZ. Mike Bibby was 14 years old.

Like Dr. J, Bird, Magic and Jordan before him, there is a timeless quality to LeBron James’ game. Future stars will be bigger, stronger and quicker, but we won’t again see his specific combo of skills, flow and panache.

There is also a timelessness in his life story, a tale of hardship, perseverance and camaraderie which seems to stay fresh no matter how many times it’s retold. With every twist of his career, each rendition gains an extra layer of meaning. The latest example, a 30-minute TV show, premiered Sunday night on Disney XD. It highlights the joyous reception James received from his hometown community of Akron, OH, as he enters a Savior 2.0 Era leading the nearby Cavaliers from conference bottom dwellers into a season where they are now favorites to win the title.

The show, the first in a series named Becoming about the lives of popular athletes, spotlights the neighborhoods in which LeBron grew up and his alma mater of St. Vincent-St. Mary High School. Much of the material will be familiar to LeBron fans—the hard-knock beginnings in a single-parent home, early dominance on the AAU circuit and finding lifelong friends there who would form the nucleus of one of the greatest prep basketball dynasties ever.

While the themes are familiar, it appears this is the first time some of the footage shown from James’ elementary and middle school days has been made public. It helps the video was co-produced by ESPN Films and James’ own Springhill Production Company, which has an office in his hometown of Akron, OH. Becoming is meant to appeal to younger viewers, but this show’s sharp production quality and rare footage make it worth any NBA fans’ while.

While this episode—which premieres on ESPN on November 7—is the latest LeBron bio, there have been a handful of accounts which involved direct access to James and his inner circle. Each one offers something new—fragments of anecdotal gold not found in the others that are worth recalling as James and the Cavaliers start the 2014-15 season as the feel-good story of the year. Here are some of the most interesting:

One reason James became so good, so fast, was that a former Division I head coach pushed him early on. Keith Dambrot, former coach at Central Michigan, was James’ high school head coach during his freshman and sophomore years.

Less known is that a woman coached James during his freshman season. Amy Sherry, a two-time MAC Player of the Year from Kent State, was one of two paid assistant coaches on Dambrot’s staff. It has taken 15 years, but the NBA is now following suit. In August, the San Antonio Spurs hired Becky Hammon as the league’s first full-time female assistant coach.

It seemed everyone wanted a piece of LeBron his senior year. He got calls seeking his presence from the likes of The Late Show with David Letterman, The Tonight Show, Good Morning America and Live with Regis & Kelly. A packed schedule meant LeBron often had to say “no.”

Comedian Martin Lawrence sought more than just a guest spot, according to Morgan Jr, then an Akron Beacon Journal reporter. Lawrence’s production company called about a movie Universal Studios would finance. Although LeBron hadn’t yet announced he was skipping college, Lawrence’s movie would star him as a baller going directly into the NBA from high school. “Even LeBron laughed about this one.”

Pre-NBA LeBron was a beast of historic proportions in both high school and the summer circuits. Among his most impressive feats came after his sophomore season, when he dominated two age groups at Pittsburgh’s prestigious Five-Star Camp. He excelled in his own age group and the one for rising seniors, playing in both leagues’ All-Star games. “No one has ever played in both before LeBron, no one has done it since, and I doubt if anyone will ever do it again,” said Howard Garfinkel, the camp’s longtime director.

Until that point, Garfinkel had seen about 125 players from his league eventually make the NBA. James was in the mix for best prep player he’d ever seen, but another No. 23 edged him out. “I’m not going to say he’s the best, because I saw Calvin Murphy score 34 points in an All-Star game one night, then have to travel to Allentown, where he scored 62 points in 29 minutes the next night in a major All-Star game. On the next level, you have Wilt Chamberlain and Connie Hawkins.”

Murphy, a 5-9 dynamo who would go on to star for the Houston Rockets in the 1970s, became the first Hall of Famer to wear No. 23 throughout his career.

The summer after James’ sophomore season, SLAM became the first national magazine to publish a feature on him. SLAM’s Ryan Jones visited St. Vincent-St. Mary to report on a prodigious 16-year-old still a half year away from the famous Sports Illustrated “The Chosen One” cover story.

In the school’s gym, during the off season, Jones saw James settle “for long jumpers on offense or gave lackluster effort on D, and anyone seeing him for the first time that day would likely have come away unimpressed.”

Jones adds James looked like “he’d rather be home with a PlayStation controller in his hands, or at the mall with his boys, anywhere but another afternoon in the gym.” In short, he was not giving 100 percent. Which is something 99.9 percent of teenagers do a lot of, except maybe a certain iconic juggernaut to whom James has always and will always be compared.

“Stories of Jordan lolling through even the most casual of runs simply didn’t exist, and indeed, tales of his relentless tears through off-season games were legendary…In such a setting, there was nothing more at stake than pride and his own bitter hatred of losing; what made him truly great was the realization that those things motivated more than any ring or trophy ever could.”

If this lackadaisical approach had been an rare off-season scrimmage thing, nobody should care. But “coupled with whispers that even during the high school season, he was known to take plays off and cherry-pick on defense, [it] might be proof of a deficiency.”

Fast forward 13 years and occasional criticism is still lobbed LeBron’s way for not getting his Great White Shark on, all the time, anywhere, as MJ did. “But there are different ways to hunt,” James told ESPN’s Chris Broussard last year when asked about this perceived weakness. “Lions do it strategically—two females will lead, and then everybody else will come in. Hyenas will just go for it. There are different ways to kill, and I don’t think people understand that. Everybody wants everybody to kill the same way. Everybody wants everybody to kill like MJ or kill like Kobe. Magic didn’t kill the way they killed. Does that mean he didn’t have a killer instinct?”

James was the most intensely covered high school athlete of our generation. Before he made tens of millions of dollars for himself as a professional, his talent and celebrity made tens of millions for others. Ohio’s high school athletics association suspended him during his senior season for accepting jerseys for free at a sporting goods store, arguing he was no longer an amateur for capitalizing on his athletic fame.

Others capitalized far more—with deliberate intent—including ESPN, Sports Illustrated, the New York Times and more local newspapers. James countered: “What about the national networks? What about the local networks? What about the morality of all these different entities in pumping me up to the size of a Thanksgiving Day Parade float? Did it go to my head? Of course it went to my head.”

If all that coverage went to his head in high school, why wouldn’t it still affect him today? Whether his ego was/is huge or not, history has shown one thing is clear: James’ teams win the most when he is surrounded by similarly aged teammates/friends who keep him grounded. In high school, that included classmates Sian Cotton, Dru Joyce III and Willie McGee. In Miami, that was Chris Bosh and Dwyane Wade, who like him are married with young children. How James now meshes with younger, more single stars like Kevin Love and Kyrie Irving off the court will determine much of Cleveland’s success.

Book: LeBron James: The Making of an MVPAuthors: Terry Pluto and Brian Windhorst Publication: 2009

In an alternative universe, this year’s Cleveland Cavaliers could have the first NBA frontcourt to boast two NFL quarterbacks. Let’s start 6-10 Kevin Love who, of course, would have to get used to throwing downward, but if his deep outlet passing is any indication, he could train to be one of the game’s most accurate passers. Rick Carlisle certainly thinks so.

With his athleticism, LeBron would even be more hypothetically devastating. He was all-state wide receiver in high school as well as a superb scout-team quarterback. Jay Brophy, who coached at SVSM after playing four years in the NFL, told Pluto and Windhorst he’s convinced LeBron could have been a Division I college quarterback. “I saw him throw it 70 yards,” added Mark Murphy, a 12-year NFL pro who became another SVSM football coach. “He was quick, had a really strong arm and he was tall enough to see over the linemen.”

James, for one, believes he could have played at the highest level. “I would have been pretty good if I had decided to go for it,” he told NFL.com. “I can see and read plays. I study a lot, so I know defenses and things of that nature.”

Perhaps it was a certain adopted irony that compelled new Brooklyn resident Kevin Garnett last season to give Joe Johnson his most catchy nickname to date: “Joe Jesus.” Yes, when his teammates need him to, Johnson comes through more often than not. In the last 15 years, few players have been better at shooting with 10 or less seconds left on the game clock.

But whereas the actual Jesus has first-team All-Religious Figure status on perennial lockdown, Joe Johnson has made All-NBA only once in his 13 seasons. And it was a Third Team selection at that. Jesus, it’s said, was able to walk on water and raise the dead. Joe, we now know, is no Savior. He doesn’t perform real miracles. He causes jaws to drop, oh, maybe once every half a decade:

If you’re going to pass out the “Jesus” nickname, and do it in a non-Shuttleworth way, give it to someone who consistently does amazing things like Kobe Bryant. It’s Bryant, after all, about whom there is so much anticipation of a glorious return. He’s the one who inspires passion in millions of fanatics. Johnson, by contrast, is a “professional shot-maker who’s always been just this side of great and who, despite the All-Star berths and max money, never moved (or even really nudged) the needle for the lion’s share of NBA fans,” as Yahoo’s Daniel Devine wrote.

Fanatics simply don’t congregate in Johnson’s name (unless you count this guy.) The 6-7 shooting guard isn’t the singular talent Kobe is, or—for that matter—LeBron, KD or Rose are. But that shouldn’t diminish what an accomplishment it is that Johnson has become the Brooklyn Nets’ best player the last two years. While injuries have sidelined or hampered younger stars like Brook Lopez and Deron Williams, Johnson has developed into the silent leader of one of the East’s top teams.

Last season, after the All-Star break, he averaged 17 points, 3.8 rebounds, 2.9 assists while shooting 48 percent from the field overall, 42 percent on threes and 83 percent from the free-throw line. In 12 playoff games, Johnson raised his efficiency even more: to 21.2 points and 53 percent from the field. For a star wing player to have his best postseason at the age of 32, after already playing in eight postseasons, might be unprecedented.

As disappointing as Brooklyn has been relative to the fortunes sunk into its roster, it would be much worse had Johnson not in the first round of last year’s Playoffs led his Nets to a Game 7 win at Toronto. Joe was pure bitcoin in the fourth, uploading half of his team-high 26 points including 11 straight Nets points in a four-minute span. In the next series, the Nets fell to the Heat in five games, with Johnson at times struggling in one-on-one matchups with LeBron James. Yet it’s Deron Williams who deserves more blame for the team’s inability to make that series more competitive. On more than one occasion, the once-superstar point guard deferred to teammates in the waning minutes of fourth quarters instead of trying to break down the defense and drive to the basket himself.

At times, it seems like steady offense from Johnson may be the only sure thing Brooklyn has coming over from last season. Head coach Jason Kidd’s out; Lionel Hollins is in. Paul Pierce and Shaun Livingston are out; Bogan Bogdanovic and Jarrett Jack are in. With expanded roles for Mirza Teletovic, Mason Plumlee and Kevin Garnett, and more significantly the return of a healthy Deron Williams and Brook Lopez, don’t expect Johnson to shoot as much in 2014-15. Expect Johnson’s minutes and points to wane as others take the burden off his shoulders.

If needed, though, they know where to go in the clutch. It could be at the top of the key, from where Johnson has the step-back three or drive and floater at his disposal. Then again, perhaps it will be in the post, where at 240 pounds he is simply too big for 99 percent of the NBA’s shooting guards to handle (Exhibit A: DeMar Derozan). Twelve feet away from the net, back turned to basket and ball in hand, Johnson goes to work like few other shooting guards this side of Bryant—as comfortable as a seasoned carpenter at his lathe.

I’m an American, who appreciates winning, steak, Will Ferrell, and all the rest of it. But I am tiring of this headlock Team USA has every other nation in. On Sunday, the United States beat Serbia 129-92 in a FIBA World Cup title game that after six minutes held about as much drama as Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues. The US has now reeled off 63 straight wins, a run that was cool at first, when we had something to prove in basketball after losing three Olympic games a decade ago. Yes, the whole “Redeem Team” thing was fantastic. Millions of Americans tuned in to see the US make a resounding statement in the 2008 Olympics to reclaim Gold.

Less enthralling was the “Confirmation Team” of the 2010 FIBA World Cup. Or Confirmation Team 2.0, or 3.0. We get it: America is unequivocally the sport’s King once more. It’s clear that since American basketball powers actually put their mind to it, the US simply has too large a pool of hyper-skilled, hyper-athletic players—headlined by hyper-athletic, hyper-skilled young superstars (I.e. Kevin Durant, Anthony Davis)—that no other single nation can hope to match.

Spain, of course, loomed as a potential danger this summer. They boasted multiple NBA All-Stars, and a roster that in total had logged more NBA games (3,223) than even the American roster (3,213). But the host nation went cold at the wrong time, against a French team with enough athletic wing players to disrupt the Spanish perimeter offense. With far more disruptive, quicker players, the Americans would have beaten Spain too.

Now that the sun is setting on Spain’s Golden Generation, as it already has with Argentina’s, the United States is accelerating beyond the teams that have hung with them in recent years. “If anything, the gap is widening,” ESPN announcer Fran Fraschilla said last week during the Americans’ semifinal win against Lithuania. To the point where no nation poses a legit threat to Team USA at the 2016 Olympics.

France could look best on paper, but they would need four Nicolas Batums to hope to slow a team with firepower including Kevin Durant, LeBron James and Paul George. If the San Antonio Spurs, a favorite to repeat as NBA Champions this coming season, were allowed entry they would pose the biggest threat. But despite the Spurs’ Texan roots, they appear unlikely to seek political autonomy any time soon.

Instead of messing with the Olympics, it’s time to form another major international tournament that provides actual compelling and competitive basketball. Provide a venue in which the best players from non-US nations team up by continent. Call it basketball’s “Pan-Continental Cup.”

On their own, Marc Gasol, Rudy Fernandez, Ricky Rubio et al won’t beat the US in coming years. Spain doesn’t have wing players big and athletic enough to defend the likes of LeBron James and Kevin Durant. But with France’s Tony Parker, Nicolas Batum and Boris Diaw on their side, they have a legit shot. Add long, imposing players like Joakim Noah, an intermittent French national team member, or England’s Luol Deng to the mix, and the US would finally face a foe that rivals it in terms of skill, athleticism and size.

Pan-continental teams work. Look at golf, where the Ryder Cup has pitted a Team USA vs a Team Europe since 1979. Meanwhile, bowling has its own USA vs Europe competition. In each sport, over the years, the two sides have proven to be pretty much even.

This idea is also already reality at the youth basketball level. FIBA sanctions the Nike Global Challenge, an annual event in which a Pan-Asian team has competed against other nations including the US, and a Pan-African team still does. Another event, the Nike Hoop Summit, goes one step farther: It pits some of the United States’ best high school players against the similarly aged stars from all other nations. Just like in golf and bowling, this setup helps raise the game of both sides and provides better competition. Each side has won three games each in the last six years.

These competitions don’t involve nearly the same number of teams and games as the FIBA World Cup, and my proposed cup wouldn’t either. The inaugural PCC would include only four teams—the US and the best three of the pan-continental teams (including a non-US North American team). Those best three could qualify by weighing the rankings of their member nations and/or elimination games. The four-team tourney itself would be two best-of-three rounds, so nobody plays more than six games.

FIBA wouldn’t be on board with this proposal, but the money to get it off the ground can come from elsewhere. With enough star players involved, shoe companies like Nike, as well as China-based Li-Ning and Germany-based adidas should be interested. The television rights deal would be enormous, and more profit would flow in from licensed merchandise, digital and radio rights, corporate hospitality and a potential video game spin-off.

Plus, there’s already rising support from NBA team owners who want less wear and tear on their stars’ bodies during the summers, especially after the gruesome practice injury that kept Team USA candidate Paul George off the final roster. Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, for instance, has been outspoken in calling for the NBA and its players to organize their own quadrennial competition separate from FIBA. The PCC would provide a potential source of additional revenue for the owners, and certainly for the players, while decreasing their chance of injury.

Successful businessmen like Mark Cuban realize that it’s sometimes smart to put aside national loyalties. It’s a matter of fact no single European nation can by itself match the US’s economic might. But the nations who comprise the European Union can, as one, rival the US and tout themselves as the world’s largest economy. These countries have all agreed to make certain concessions—to some extent putting aside their national pride—in order to accomplish something they believe makes a stronger worldwide economy. It’s time we see a similar thing happen in basketball.

The US can’t remain invincible forever. But when that next loss comes, will it be because the law of probability caught up with the US and it had an off day—or because two teams played magnificently, produced one of the greatest spectacles in sports history and someone eventually had to lose?

“For the benefit of the game, for the benefit of the NBA … and for competitive spirit—you want to see better teams,” USA Basketball chairman Jerry Colangelo told me in August. “That may end up meaning that we don’t win every competition and some might say that would be in the best interest or health of the game.”

Who can argue it isn’t?

***

Below are possible rosters for six all-continent teams, using only players who participated in international competition since 2011 at any age level. They are assembled with size and athleticism in mind, and ranked in projected order of finish worst to best.

*Under Armour just signed Mudiay, a potential No. 1 pick in next year’s NBA Draft, to a lucrative shoe deal. In helping Mudiay gain more exposure and potentially become the first great guard out of Africa, Under Armour potentially would have a vested interest in becoming a sponsor of this pan-continental cup.

Kevin Durant’s withdrawal from Team USA earlier this month not only significantly altered the national team’s roster and chemistry. It also likely set into motion a domino effect ushering in a watershed moment in international basketball: For the first time in the Dream Team era, Team USA enters a major tournament with less total NBA experience than a competitor. Host Spain’s players have the most NBA experience in the upcoming FIBA World Cup with 51 cumulative years. Team USA is second with 46 years, followed by Brazil with 39 years.

This is only the latest tremor to ripple through a landscape that has dramatically shifted since the original Dream Team arrived in Barcelona for the 1992 Olympics. Its 12 players had a total of 87 years worth of NBA experience. Germany followed with two players totaling 12 years. And not a single Spanish player had logged an NBA minute. NBA Commissioner Adam Silver, who has firsthand seen much of this growth, wrote in an e-mail: “It is not a surprise that a national team other than the US team has more NBA experience. In 1992, the NBA had 21 international players on NBA rosters and last season we had a record 92 international players so this really speaks to the global growth of the game.”

At the least, this benchmark is a sure sign Team USA must continue to work hard for its Gold medals. It may, however, point toward a basketball future where the Americans—despite their best efforts—regularly lose to squads that are more seasoned and nearly as talented.

The 2016 Olympics may feature such a team: A loaded French squad could be the first non-US team to feature a roster of all NBA players if dual citizen Joakim Noah joins the likes of Tony Parker, Boris Diaw and Evan Fournier. In major competitions following that, Canada (with possible roster entries Andrew Wiggins and Tyler Ennis) and Australia (which appears to be on the brink of a golden generation with the likes of Patty Mills, Dante Exum, Ben Simmons and Thon Maker) also loom as potential rivals to Team USA. Of course, an advantage in NBA experience alone doesn’t portend ultimate success. In 2002, the Americans had a total of 65 NBA years but lost to three squads with far less. Two years later, they were eliminated in the Olympics by an Argentine team with a total of seven NBA years of experience.

Since that loss, Team USA has won 66 of 67 games. In 2014, though, a second loss in the Mike Krzyzewski Era has never looked more likely. The Spaniards are brimming with confidence and for good reason. They have a dominant front line featuring Serge Ibaka, Pau Gasol and Marc Gasol, who looks to be in the best shape of his life and joins Anthony Davis as the tourney’s best all-around players. Spain boasts athletic and seasoned guards and wings who pushed American squads far more talented than this one in two Olympic Gold medal games. In all, these Spaniards have 11 players with a total of 701 international (FIBA) games played. This US team has five players with 41 total games, according to ESPN.

Oddsmakers still have the US as the tourney’s favorite, but Serbian head coach Aleksandar Djordjevic believes Spain is the frontrunner. Meanwhile, Spanish guard Jose Calderon said the host nation’s team won’t crumble under the local weight of expectations (unlike a certain 2014 FIFA World Cup counterpart). “We are very laid back right now…the strength of this team is peace of mind to say you’ve got to compete and stay calm,” Calderon told as.com. “We know what we have to do, but there’s not the pressure of ‘Win no matter what.’”

Pressure to stay on top contributed to a bigger and younger Team USA roster than what was expected had Durant remained. For one, his training camp replacement Rudy Gay would not be traveling to Spain. But his absence might also have cost wing player Kyle Korver a spot. The 33-year-old sharpshooter would have been a perfect complement to Durant’s supreme offensive abilities. Yet when Team USA announced its final cuts on Saturday, a premium was placed on size and strength rather than shooting skill and precision. As a consequence, Detroit’s Andre Drummond—who just turned 21 years old—is in.

“USAB officials decided in recent days that they simply couldn’t resist carrying Drummond, especially with a potential rematch with Spain and its imposing frontcourt of Marc Gasol, Pau Gasol and Serge Ibaka looming in the September 14 championship game,” wrote ESPN.com’s Marc Stein.

No doubt, the 7-foot, 280-pound Drummond is a beast. Exhibit A: He is the only player besides Shaq to average at least 13 rebounds per game in an age-20 season. But Andre the Giant (sorry, Corey Maggette, I refuse to call Drummond “Pimp Juice”) is also a career 40 percent free-throw shooter, which would pose serious problems for Team USA if he had to play down the stretch of a high-pressure elimination game.

Another possible red flag: the occasional dry spells of guard James Harden. As a high-volume streak outside shooter, Harden will undoubtedly torch some of the Americans’ weaker foes. But the ultra-talented scorer sometimes pushes the issue, even when cold, to the detriment of team flow. He took three quick shots—missing them all—in the waning minutes of the first half in Team USA’s most recent game against Puerto Rico. Those misses allowed Puerto Rico to close the Americans’ lead to 49-47 at one point. Harden did later get back on track, but that won’t be a given against better opponents like Lithuania or Spain.

Team USA still boasts more NBA stars than its competitors, although this year’s Spanish team shows that gap is closing. Another major factor, of course, is many veteran American superstars aren’t playing, whether because of injury as with Paul George and Blake Griffin, or other reasons as with Carmelo Anthony, Kevin Love and LeBron James.

While we can expect more Spain-like international teams in the future, the larger unknown is whether the relative inexperience of this Team USA is an anomaly. Or could this be the start of a new era in which similarly young American teams give up not only international—but NBA—experience to foes in future Olympics and World Cups? Adam Silver doesn’t think so, citing the mix of young and experienced players on the 2012 Olympic team. “We do not see this as a trend and expect there to be a mix of talent with different levels of experience going forward.”

Perhaps the formidable challenge Spain poses this September isn’t long-term bad news for Team USA. A Spanish Gold medal may be the best way to ensure NBA superstars circa 2018—guys like Stephen Curry, Anthony Davis and Kyrie Irving—still care about that year’s FIBA World Cup, too.

Evin Demirel, who reported from Turkey at the 2010 FIBA World Championship, blogs at thesportsseer.com. He tweets about Ricky Rubio and Razorback football from @evindemirel.

SPRINGFIELD, MA – Last Friday, the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame here swelled to 335 members. More and more, these players, coaches, contributors, referees and teams represent a diverse background. In the last few years, we’ve seen inducted African-American pioneers from the sport’s first decades, a Lithuanian (Sarunas Marciulionis) who helped usher in the Dream Team era, two women’s basketball teams and even the first Hall of Famer [Alonzo Mourning] who’s undergone an organ transplant.

But, despite the commitment to variety, there’s still one barrier that should be broken. There are 10 teams in the Hall of Fame, but all are American. The first such non-American entry should be the Argentinian national team from the 2004 Olympics. For one, they soundly beat an American group of superstars en route to the Gold medal, a monumental deed on its own. But the Argentinians did so much more, as ESPN’s Zach Lowe pointed out on a B.S. Report podcast. They represented a style of play, and system of development, forming the foundation on which the resurgent American dominance of the last six years has been based.

“I think they certainly are a team worthy of consideration,” says Jerry Colangelo, chairman of USA Basketball. “When I was asked to take over USA Basketball in ’05, I was asked to change the culture. One of things that I saw that others were doing was the national team concept—which isn’t picking 12 players when you had the World Championships or the Olympics coming up like an All-Star team—but you develop a national team [program], a deep roster.”

The ‘04 Argentines rose together through junior national team ranks and in the end imparted a lesson no number of Larry Brown soliloquies could have seared in with the same effect: “You can’t just show up at a basketball game and feel that because you have USA across your chest you’re going to win,” Allen Iverson said after his team was ousted from the ‘04 Olympics. A wholesale system reboot ensued. Players would no longer just show up at camp a month or two before tip-off. They were expected to put in commitments of at least two years. And the door would be wide open for smart, non All-Star role players like Tayshaun Prince and Kyle Korver.

Now, three Gold medals later, that change has fostered a continuity and depth that gives hope to a US team heading into its most perilous storm in eight years. The US team streak of three major international competition titles in a row is in jeopardy as it begins practice this week in advance of the 2014 FIBA World Cup. The tournament host Spaniards have 15/8 odds to win the tournament starting August 30.

The Americans’ defections—which include Kevin Love, Blake Griffin and Kevin Durant—have been well chronicled. But they are nothing compared to the problems faced by the Argentinians, who will head to Spain without leader Manu Ginobili, the 37-year-old NBA star who is recovering from a stress fracture in his right leg. Other cornerstone Argentinian players of the last 15 years will also not play, and 34-year-old Luis Scola said he may sit to protest problems within Argentinian basketball’s governing body.

If this how Argentina’s greatest basketball generation bows out, perhaps it’s fitting they so quietly exit. Because they didn’t exactly burst onto the scene back in 2002, during their first major senior team tournament at what’s now called the FIBA World Cup. Internationally experienced superstars like Jason Kidd, Ray Allen, Kevin Garnett didn’t suit up for the Americans in that Indianapolis tourney and it showed.

Argentina handed the US its first loss in the post-Dream Team era, “sending a ragged and motley Team USA tumbling toward sixth place and a well-deserved moment of global reckoning,” Yahoo Sports’ Adrian Wojnarowski wrote. “USA Basketball had no system, no soul, no vision. The program had collapsed under the weight of its own neglect and hubris, a sense of entitlement that ultimately met its international match with a relentless band of brothers out of Argentina.”

RC Buford, the San Antonio Spurs’ general manager, told Wojnarowski: “The way the Argentines played, the passion they had had for their national program, the way that they cared about each other, was something that was clearly missing with the US program.” Buford said losing didn’t appear to sting the US players as much as it did the Argentinians, who lamented their second-place finish and resolved to do better in the 2004 Olympics. He recalled “the American guys had limousines lined up at the team hotel to get out of Indy as soon as they could.”

While the sixth-place finish and relative apathy shown by Americans disturbed some basketball insiders, it didn’t register with the American public at large. That’s partly because the losing players—guys like Brad Miller, Elton Brand and Andre Miller—weren’t exactly household names. Another big reason: Approximately 200 million Americans care way more about the Olympics than the FIBA World Cup.

In 2004, the US brought bigger guns to Athens, but to no avail. Tim Duncan, Allen Iverson and a young LeBron James, Carmelo Anthony and Dwyane Wade didn’t have enough experience playing with each other, or under FIBA rules, to avoid losing to Puerto Rico and Lithuania in pool play. Still the US appeared to be coming together in the quarterfinals when it beat a previously undefeated Spanish team 102-94. It might have surged on to Gold had it not again met the Argentinians in the semifinals.

The Americans never had a shot. Or rather, they had plenty, but missed too many of them, stumbling to a 42 percent finish on field goals. Argentina meanwhile took full advantage of the Americans’ poor perimeter defense, back picking them to dust while sinking 11-22 from three-point range. The US lost 89-81.

Manu Ginobili, who led the offensive charge with 29 points, is destined to enter the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame on his own. His bonafides—four NBA titles, a Euroleague title and that Olympic Gold—make him a no-brainer. But it wasn’t individual brilliance that made the ultimate difference. It was Ginobili’s chemistry with the rest of the team—guys like Alejandro Montecchia, Pepe Sanchez, Walter Herrmann and Andres Nocioni. “That was a team,” Jerry Colangelo says, “because they had played together for so many years, they kind of grew up together in amateur basketball. That epitomizes what basketball’s all about.”

It’s only right to enshrine Ginobili and his teammates and coaches. That process could begin as soon as a nomination letter is written on their behalf, as there is “there really is no true guideline for teams,” according to Matt Zeysing, historian for the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame. The Hall has honored plenty individuals as well as the squads on which they played at separate times. Many examples can be found on the rosters of enshrined teams like the Harlem Globetrotters and American 1960 Olympic team and 1992 teams.

“I think as we go forward here (at the Hall of Fame) there probably should be more focus on teams,” Colangelo says. “The basic reason is I believe basketball is the ultimate team game. When it’s played appropriately the team concept, it’s poetry in motion.”

***

Americans owe gratitude to the Argentinean 2004 team. More than any other international team, they humbled the US and incentivized Americans to open their minds to how the rest of the basketball world operates. That loss created a situation “where we’re going to learn something from them,” Colangelo recalled. “I looked at Argentina, Brazil, Spain and other countries who had the national team concept, developing players through the system.”

Non-American influence is becoming more visible within USA Basketball and the NBA on a tactical level. The champion San Antonio Spurs are at the forefront of this assimilation, while the Toronto Raptors had built one of the East’s most promising young teams under the guidance of an Italian vice president. Meanwhile, look for the ascendant Cleveland Cavaliers to head deep into the 2015 Playoffs with new head coach David Blatt, an Israeli-American who’d been playing and coaching abroad since 1981.

Historically, the United States has been the most dominant nation in men’s basketball. That has given Americans the cachet to export the game—and the material culture around it—to the rest of the world. But if the US wants to remain on top, it must learn from other nations as enthusiastically as those nations learned from it.

Enshrining Argentina’s ’04 Olympic team would help ensure this isn’t forgotten.

Evin Demirel writes for SLAM, the Daily Beast and Sporting Life Arkansas among others. Read his blog here.

How old, really, is the dunk itself? Nobody knows. It may be the most well-known athletic feat in all of team sports—with a visceral appeal that plays a major role in basketball emerging as the world’s second most popular sport—and yet its origins remain shrouded in mystery.

Clearing away some of the mist starts with straightening the record. For instance, it’s commonly thought the word “dunk” in a basketball context wasn’t invented until 45 years after the game’s birth, and that in those first decades the act was the sole domain of giants.

Both these beliefs appear to be false.

Joe Fortenberry, a 6-8 Texan who captained the US team in the 1936 Olympics, is widely believed to be the first person to dunk in an organized game. At those Berlin Olympics, Fortenberry’s height intimidated shorter opponents, to the point where the Japanese proposed barring any Olympic basketball players over 6-2, according to the New York Times. Even this limit wouldn’t much help the Japanese, who were apparently much shorter, Times columnist John Kieran wrote: “That would still leave the little chaps from the Land of the Rising Sun running harmlessly down under while a lot of big fellows from some other country were passing the ball from hand to basket overhead.” Another Times writer noted Fortenberry had the awe-inspiring ability to “pitch the ball downward into the hoop, much like a cafeteria customer dunking a roll in coffee.”

This description “gave birth to the moniker ‘dunk,’” Carson Cunningham wrote in American Hoops: U.S. Men’s Olympic Basketball from Berlin to Beijing. Not so. The term had been used at least three times in the preceding two years, indicating the act wasn’t unknown in the early 1930s. The earliest mention I found is in a January 12, 1935 account of University of California, Davis star Bernard “Darney” Dobbas. In a win against Chico State college, Dobbas poured in 27 of his Aggies’ 42 points. With less than 10 minutes left, “the six-foot-two center busted through again and dribble[d] down court for another ‘dunk’ shot to give his team a 33-32 lead,” reported the Woodland Daily Democrat.

It isn’t clear if the “dunk” described here is what we recognize as a dunk or something way less cool. In some basketball accounts of the mid-1900s, “dunk” simply meant to score in any way. It probably doesn’t mean jump shot or lay up here because, in other parts of the UC-Davis game report, the writer specifies a set shot attempt as “looping” and notes that at one point Dobbas converted a “tip-in.” “Basketball was more awkward then, for sure, but there was also tremendous athleticism on a relative scale,” basketball historian Claude Johnson wrote in an email.

In the 1920s, the leather ball itself was awkward—on average a couple inches wider and couple ounces heavier than the modern version. Joe Lapchick, an elite pro player of the era, described it as a “bulky pumpkin,” “lopsided and blackened by dirt and age” in historian Murry Nelson’s The Originals: The New York Celtics Invent Modern Basketball. Nelson adds, via email, this larger, slicker ball would have been harder to palm than later, smaller versions, making dunking in the 1920s a less likely event.

The nascent dunking of the 1930s wasn’t done often, or with any flair: The act was often seen as showboating, and those players who did too much of it could be undercut and injured by opponents. Big men had less to fear along these lines.

Big men dunkers got more ink as they took center stage in a growing controversy over the evolution of the game. By 1940, players 6-8 and taller were increasingly filling the rosters of elite college programs and “the game kind of devolved from the passing game that was so popular in the ‘20s and ‘30s,” NBA Hall of Famer Dolph Schayes said in a telephone interview. A group of sportswriters and college coaches, led by Kansas’ Phog Allen, worried fundamentals were deteriorating. “Many people claim that there is no premium on accuracy,” a columnist for the Helena Daily Independent wrote in 1940. “That instead of beautiful shooting—slap happy basketball has resulted with wild throwing from every possible angle calculated to get the ball into range of the backboards where the skyscraper boys bat it down for two points.”

Essentially, the problem was too much dunking and basket interference, which was allowed then. Legal goaltending was also becoming epidemic. As a cure, Phog Allen proposed raising the rim from 10 to 12 feet to lessen the giants’ advantage inside. “Dunking does not display basketball skill—only height advantage,” Allen wrote in his 1937 book Better Basketball.

Even then, Allen foresaw a day in which the likes of LeBron James, Kevin Durant, and Anthony Davis would dominate. “A team of giants who are smart and fast have been both the prayer and the dream of the basketball coach…These dream men whose heads just graze the rim of the baskets and who with one hand dunk the balls through the hoops, like children inserting pennies in gum machines, may yet have to seek another sport in which to excel.”

Drop Allen into the midst of this weekend’s All Star Game festivities in New Orleans, and he very well may think he’s watching a different sport. Very little in the modern game resembles the one invented by Allen’s mentor, James Naismith. There are still similarities, of course. You still have to get a ball through a rim – even if a peach basket bottom no longer prevents it from dropping to the ground. And revolutionary thinking is still prized.

Recent Slam Dunk champions have won through clever use of props: Blake Griffin dunked over a Kia, Dwight Howard dunked while wearing a Superman cape, Nate Robinson dunked over a Dwight Howard. Coincidentally, in the early 1910s, a kind of prop also enabled Jack Inglis to win a place in history. In that rough-and-tumble era, wire cages surrounded many basketball courts to protect spectators from the players, and visa versa. In one game, Inglis, a star guard who played pro ball in Troy, New York, “ jumped up alongside the basket, grabbed the cage, and pulled himself up alongside the basket,” according to author Bill Gutman. “While the defenders looked up at him helplessly, a teammate passed him the ball. Inglis caught it while hanging onto the cage with one hand and dropped it through the basket.”

The first known dunk and alley-oop, all rolled into one.

Evin Demirel blogs more about history’s first dunks at his Sports Seer blog, where he includes the second-oldest image of a dunk known to mankind. This article was originally published by The Daily Beast.

Increasingly rare and precious indeed is the not-sure-thing player, from the not-sure-where-that-is school, who turns out to be the missing piece in your favorite team’s championship puzzle. More rare, even, than the sure-thing prospect—from a school seen nightly on SportsCenter—who as a rookie LeBronizes the League every decade or so.

Any franchise can snag the latter on NBA Draft Night with the dumb luck of a lottery ball bounce. It’s the franchises which identify, plot for and get the latter that in the long run separate themselves from the pack.

In 1976, Seattle snagged Dennis Johnson, who in high school wasn’t even good enough to play more than a few minutes a game. In his second pro season, he led the SuperSonics to a Championship. In 1986, Detroit gambled on NAIA star Dennis Rodman, who never got on to the floor as a high schooler and at age 22 appeared to have washed out of competitive basketball altogether. Fast forward a few years: Rodman’s a borderline star and vital contributor to the Pistons’ first two titles.

Of all stories in which a player swings from utter anonymity to eventual superstardom, the most celebrated belongs to Scottie Pippen. The first-ballot Hall of Famer entered college not on an athletic scholarship but with a grant to work as the basketball team’s manager. He majored in industrial education, assuming his future was in factory management. After two summers of welding work in furniture plants that left him burn marks on his arms, Pippen decided basketball held more promise than he’d originally assumed.

Within seven years, the would-be factory manager was churning out the first of six world Championships, seven All-NBA selections and 10 All-Defensive Team selections. But, like his running mate Michael Jordan, Pippen has left a complex legacy as a great player on the court with questionable behavior off of it. At least three times early in his career, Pippen was cited in police reports for domestic abuse. On Sunday, he was involved in a fight outside a sushi restaurant in Malibu. The other person suffered head injuries and was taken to a hospital, where he was treated and released.

It’s hard to reconcile reports of this Pippen—posh, violent and impetuous—with accounts of the shy boy from rural Arkansas who toiled in obscurity for years. Pippen has been in the national limelight for 26 years, and it seems as if we hardly know him any better than when he first burst on the scene in the 1987 Draft.

If not for a stunning growth spurt, he likely would have stayed anonymous.

Like Rodman and Johnson, Pippen physically underwhelmed in high school. At 6-1 and 150 pounds, he didn’t consider himself to be a much of basketball prospect. As a junior, he skipped an off-season conditioning program to be an equipment manager for Hamburg High School’s football team. He only became a starter as a senior.

“He was a good role player, but we certainly had better players,” Hamburg basketball coach Donald Wayne told the Arkansas Times in 1988. “In fact, I coached three of Scottie’s older brothers here, and at least one of them, Jimmy (who now works for a supermarket in Little Rock) was a lot better high school player than Scottie was.”

Still, Wayne saw enough in Pippen to think the point guard could contribute to a small college program, even if no recruiters had shown the slightest interest in him. Wayne put in a call to his former college coach Don Dyer, who was then coaching at the University of Central Arkansas in Conway. Wayne “had it in his mind that basketball was the way I would get an education,” Pippen told Sports Illustrated in 1987.

Dyer wasn’t thrilled with the prospect, but, as a favor, took Pippen on as a manager. Pippen’s initial job was to serve water, tape ankles and gather laundry but he also got to practice with the team, then part of the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics. When two UCA players quit at the start of the ’83-84 season, Dyer put Pippen—who’d grown to 6-3—on scholarship and added him to the roster. “He was real gangly,” Dyer told the Arkansas Times. “The coordination just wasn’t there yet, but you could see underneath that even then he had the skills.”

Pippen played sporadically as a freshman, averaging only 4 points and 3 rebounds, but by season’s end had grown another two inches and had packed on muscle through weight lifting.

Pippen emerged as the team’s best player as a sophomore even if he couldn’t much show it during games. Poor grades took that season’s first semester away and in his first game back, Pippen injured an ankle and was hobbled for much of the season’s remainder. Still, he averaged 18 points and 9 rebounds and at 6-7 and nearly 200 pounds had started playing all positions.

In the summers, Pippen worked out on campus with his best friend Ronnie Martin and competed in Little Rock’s Dunbar Community Center league, Dyer recalled. There, he played with some of the best Arkansans of the era, including Milwaukee Bucks star Sidney Moncrief. “He just kept getting better and better,” Dyer said in a telephone interview. It became clear Pippen had legit NBA potential.

So, Dyer started sending film of him to organizations. Footage went to Dyer’s acquaintance Bob Bass, then the San Antonio Spurs’ general manager. Dyer was surprised the Spurs didn’t reply. “We were just trying to get [Pippen’s] name out there, but nobody paid attention to him.”

Such anonymity persisted through Pippen’s junior year, in which he led his Arkansas Intercollegiate Conference in points (19.3 ppg) and rebounding (9.2 rpg) and earned the first of two consecutive NAIA All-American selections. “We spent that year and the next trying to tell people we had the best basketball player in Arkansas at UCA, bar none,” Dyer told the Arkansas Times. “But if you’re not at Fayetteville, or to a lesser extent Jonesboro or Little Rock, it’s hard to get anybody to listen to you.”

In Pippen’s senior season, UCA assistant coach Arch Jones apparently took it upon himself to ensure his young star got noticed. He’d read an article about NBA superscout Marty Blake, who had a track record for finding off-the-radar talents which he’d bolstered by scouting Rodman at Southeastern Oklahoma State University.

Jones recalled nearly 25 years before he’d run across Blake’s name attached to flowers sent to Arkansas Tech, where he’d played college ball. In 1961, Blake was scouting Jones’ Tech teammate JP Lovelady for the St. Louis Hawks. Blake thought he’d found “the next Jerry Sloan,” the hard-nosed 6-4 guard from Illinois, and expected to sign Lovelady at the Hawks’ training camp. Tragically, Lovelady died in a car accident before he could participate.

In 1986, Jones cold-called Blake, introduced himself and told him Pippen was worth checking out in person. “In December of Pippen’s senior season, Blake ventured to Hattiesburg, MS, where Central Arkansas played Southern Mississippi, to see for himself,” according to a 2010 Chicago Tribune article.

“Before Pippen finished scoring 24 points while playing all five positions that night, Blake had begun figuring out how to add him to the prestigious Portsmouth Invitational Tournament that, in those days, served as a four-day NBA job interview.”

Blake got him into that post-season showcase among others, but in the meantime tried to elicit more interest from NBA personnel as Pippen put up 23.6 ppg, 10 rpg, 4 apg while shooting 58 percent from the three-point line during his senior year.

Chicago’s general manager Jerry Krause became interested. In February 1987, he dispatched his assistant Billy McKinney to UCA for a game against Henderson State, according to Sports Illustrated.

“Officials at Central Arkansas had been told that Blake was urging all NBA teams to see Pippen play that night. “The people in Conway were expecting this horde of people from the pros,” McKinney says. But the invasion never materialized; McKinney was the only scout to show up.”

Eventually, in the next months, scouts from a few other teams including Boston came to Conway. Likely, they had the same doubts as McKinney. How to accurately gauge Pippen’s true ability when the competition—which McKinney likened to “amateur night at the Y”—was so lousy?

The scouts’ suspicions wouldn’t be soothed until April, when Pippen traveled to Virginia to play in the Portsmouth Invitational Tournament against future first-round selections. His versatility, athleticism and length quickly made a big impression on Krause, who finally saw him in person. “He had the longest arms (6-10 wingspan) I’d ever seen,” Krause told the Chicago Tribune in 2010. “That night, I got very excited.”

He wasn’t the only one.

Blake recalled Pippen had been so impressive that by the end of the first day, 50 colleagues approached him in the stands to shake his hand. Pippen kept it up, dominating two more post-season showcases for college seniors.

Still, he wasn’t exactly a known commodity among his major college counterparts. For instance, not until two weeks before the 1987 NBA Draft did Georgetown’s Reggie Williams (the eventual No. 4 pick) first hear Pippen’s name, according to SI.

Pippen’s quickly rising stock made it unlikely he would still be around for the Bulls’ first pick at No. 8, so Krause swung a trade with Seattle a few hours before the Draft began that gave Bulls center Olden Polynice to the SuperSonics for Pippen, who was taken by Seattle with the No. 5 selection.

In the span of six weeks, Pippen had risen from likely second-rounder to a lottery pick who reportedly signed a six-year contract worth more than $5 million including incentives, according to SI.

It was the culmination of an improbable run for Scottie, the youngest of 12 children raised by a paper mill worker in Ashley County. The son of the Arkansas Delta was now headed for the bright lights of Chicago.

Decades before, the family of Ashley County native Joe Jackson had also moved to the Midwest, setting into motion a series of events leading to a pop cultural phenomenon in the 1970s and ’80s that centered on his son Michael Jackson.

Pippen, of course, joined another MJ in the Rust Belt. Together, they sparked a cultural phenomenon all their own.

It’s not a fledgling punk band, or some ridiculously titled new lipstick flavor.

It’s what star players from two of the most dominant college basketball teams in the 1940s couldn’t curtail every time the topic was brought up: Did Adolph Hitler, Hirohito and the University of Wyoming swipe a National Championship which should have belonged to the Fighting Illini?

The Wyoming Cowboys won the NCAA Championship in 1943, then beat the NIT champions for good measure, but many contemporaries believed Illinois was by far and away the nation’s best team that year. The “Whiz Kids” of Urbana-Champaign were two-time defending Big Ten champions, ranked No. 1 in the nation, won 11 of their 12 conference games by double digits and finished the season on the type of roll that could put Cinnabon out of business: their last three wins were 50-26 against 1941 national champ Wisconsin, 86-44 against Northwestern and 90-25 against Chicago.

Ahead of Illinois was the NCAA Tournament and an eight-team field including Georgetown, Texas and Washington. In later years, the Whiz Kids agreed they would have swept everybody else away. “I think we could have walked through it,” ’43 team member Jack Smiley told The News-Gazette in 1999. “We weren’t even close relative to competition from below.”

World War II happened. Actually, it was already a few years in the happening by the time 1943, and no American could escape its toll. For three Illini starters, that came in the form of a military draft which sent Smiley, Ken Menke and Art Mathisen to war right after the regular season ended in March. Illinois coach Douglas Mills decided the team would be better off skipping the postseason rather than play with only two starters.

Still, the question of how Illinois would have fared remains.

Despite the Whiz Kids’ confidence, Wyoming would not have been an easy out. The Cowboys finished their season 31-2 while playing only nine games at home. They’d won their games by an average of about 20 points and with three All-Americans had nearly as much talent as Illinois. And Wyoming had Kenny Sailors—the inventor of the jump shot. Remember this is 1943 and nobody knew how to defend a 5-11 guard who was stutter step dribbling, feinting and rocketing three feet into the air before shooting. Hell, it’s still tough trying to guard someone like that.

Sailors, at age 92, is the lone surviving starter from either team. This is not the type of man who goes down without a fight, and the two-time National Player of the Year certainly was swinging on the issue if this 2010 interview with Wyoming’s American Heritage Center is any indication.

While Sailors knows Illinois was a great team—he’d play against two of its members later in the NBA—he insinuates that the team’s draftees might have been able (or at least try) to postpone their departure a couple weeks in order to play in the NCAA Tournament. But, possibly, Illinois’ coach Mills didn’t want to risk staining the season’s Big Ten regular-season title—then arguably a bigger deal to the players than the NCAA title—by losing in a post-season tournament.

Perhaps, Sailors said, Mills “had learned enough about Wyoming to decide ‘I don’t want to want to tackle that team. They look pretty good to me.’ We beat a lot of good teams. Maybe Illinois figured they couldn’t compete with us.”

Boom. Gauntlet’s officially on the ground, ya’ll.

Let’s try to settle this once but likely not for all.

I won’t pretend to know these teams well enough to judge which one is superior—I doubt many there are many people still alive who could—but I’ll at least throw out some essentials:

The backcourt battle would have featured Sailors, who would go on to become a leading scorer with the Denver Nuggets, and the 6-3 Jack Smiley, who was regarded as one of the best defenders in the nation. It would be fascinating to see if Smiley’s length and quickness would have disrupted Sailors’ shot.

The frontcourt battle would also be taut. For Illinois, 6-5 senior captain Art Mathisen held down the fort inside. He was one of the team’s four all-conference players. The fundamentally sound by not overly quick Andy Phillip*, the Big Ten Player of the Year, joined him.

Phillip, like every starter except Mathisen, was 6-3. They were all essentially interchangeable and loved to run in a fast-breaking offense that was ahead of its time. It’s a testament to Phillips’ versatility that in the 1950s he would transform into a point guard and five-time NBA All-Star.

Wyoming’s big men would not have been intimidated, though. All-American Jim Weir, a very quick 6-5 power forward, might have matched up with Philip as well as anybody he’d ever faced. Center Milo Komenich, another All-American, was plodding but a rugged defender and rebounder. He proved to be a clutch baller during Wyoming’s last two games of the season when he held highly touted centers from Georgetown and St. John’s in check to help Wyoming secure its most impressive wins.

We’ll never know if Illinois would have won its only NCAA Tourney title in 1943 instead of Wyoming if the US hadn’t been dragged into World War II. We’d be lucky even to find video of the Whiz Kids (there’s only scant video of Wyoming). It also hurts that the two programs did not play a mutual opponent in ’41-42 or ’42-43.

So, in the end, all we have is conjecture. For some, like the Wyoming and Illinois players themselves, that never gets old.

*Phillip’s birthname was Andras Fulop. His parents were Hungarians who’d moved to southern Illinois. Although Phillip might never have gotten official Hungarian citizenship, his ethnicity opens up the question of whether he—not Kornel David—should be considered the first Hungarian in the NBA. Phillip at least deserves an asterisk on this Wikipedia page.

This article originally published on Evin’s blog about sports and society.

Two years ago, as an eighth grader, Kevaughn Allen, decided to seriously prepare for high school competition.

So he started a training regiment that would make some NBA players balk.

Every weekday, year-round, he has met his AAU coach Kahn Cotton at the North Little Rock Athletic Club at 5 a.m. For two hours, they work on skills, strength and quickness. In the offseason, Allen tacks on an afternoon session of plyometrics.

For the love of just being a kid, why does he do it?

“I just wanted to be get better as a person and as a basketball player,” Allen said. “I just didn’t want nobody else to be better than me.”

For the most part, all that sweat has paid off. Allen, one of the nation’s most promising sophomore guards, has earned scholarship offers from a host of schools including the University of Arkansas. He helps lead a North Little Rock Charging Wildcats team that has won 23 games in a row and has spent nearly all the season ranked No. 1 in the state.

He has teamed with fellow guard Dayshawn Watkins to form one of the state’s best backcourts. The duo combines for about 36 points and 10 assists a game, and has already helped NLR defeat other top teams around the state—Jonesboro, Little Rock Hall, Fayetteville, Jacksonville, Clarksville.

Their statistics, though, wouldn’t fuel as many wins were it not for an on-court chemistry springing from off-court friendship. Last season was hard on Watkins. The point guard had just transferred from North Pulaski and had trouble jelling with new teammates. “It wasn’t easy for me to get used to my teammates, and it wasn’t easy for them to get used to me,” Watkins told the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette’s Tim Cooper in December 2012. “We liked each other, but we didn’t always have the chemistry on the court.”

North Little Rock finished its season 18-9 after losing to Fayetteville in the Class 7A state tournament quarterfinals.

But things changed heading into this season. First, North Little Rock got a new head coach who’s made building camaraderie a priority. Coach Johnny Rice scheduled tournaments requiring overnight stays, threw a team Christmas party at his house, and signed up his Charging Wildcats to help with the North Little Rock Police’s “Shop with a Cop” program, which provides poor children with toys for Christmas.

On top of this, Allen, who stands 6-3, and Watkins, 6-feet, have developed an extra strong bond. Allen, who played for NLR’s ninth grade team last season, got Watkins to join him in his morning workouts. They also hang out together after school, and have a ritual of discussing strategy over a meal at Chili’s before each home game. All this communication comes in handy on the court, Watkins said. “When he makes a mistake, I pick him up and when I make a mistake, he picks me up.”

The result: North Little Rock is 25-1 and ranked No. 25 in the nation, according to CBS Sports’ affiliate MaxPreps.

If North Little Rock keeps rolling and finishes off what seems like destiny at this point— a 7A state title—there shouldn’t be a question Allen and Watkins are the state’s best backcourt. At least, this is how it would work most years.

Because of two guards at Little Rock Parkview High, this isn’t most years.

***

Junior Anton Beard and senior Imara Ready are the most recent torchbearers for a Parkview Patriots tradition that has produced 12 state titles. Two years ago, the 5-9 Ready picked up the nickname “Little General” for strong play in the state tournament. Ready lived up to the moniker by delivering 11 points, 7 defensive rebounds and 3 assists in a 50-44 win over Jacksonville in the 6A state title game.

Since then, though, team leadership has clearly split between Ready and Beard, who recently decommitted from Missouri and is considering Arkansas. Since 2010, with Beard and Ready as starters, the Patriots have accrued a 68-13 record and another state title in 2012. After each player averaged around 17 points per game last season, for much of this season each guard averaged more than 20 points a game—productivity which may be unprecedented in state history.

The Patriot guards shoulder much more of a scoring burden than their North Little Rock counterparts, who share responsibility with other all-state caliber players like forward Thomas Alexander.

Like Allen and Watkins, Beard (5-10) and Ready (6-0) have learned leaning on each other is vital to team success. “They look out for each other,” Flanigan said. “They’re just like brothers.” Beard, who lives near UALR, and Ready, who lives in North Little Rock, often do homework at each other’s homes and shoot together at Parkview’s gym on weekends.

On offense, the guards have interchangeable roles handling the ball, scoring and distributing. On defense, the quicker Ready stays on perimeter players while the stronger Beard occasionally guards centers. Indeed, he’s guarded players ten inches taller in wins against Hall and Fayetteville. “It’s all about the heart,” Beard said. “Some kids lay down. I can go out and guard anybody on the court.”

***

For years, Watkins, Allen, Beard and Ready have played with and against each other at lower levels. In fourth grade, for instance, Allen teamed with Beard on the AAU North Little Rock All Stars. Later, they were Lakewood Middle School teammates. Ready and Watkins were North Pulaski teammates in ninth grade.

But this quartet hasn’t played on the same court in high school. In each of the last two seasons, three of the four players have competed in Jammin’ For Jackets, an annual December tournament. Last season, Parkview won 54-41 over host North Little Rock in a title game that didn’t include Allen because he wasn’t yet a varsity player. Ready, who also goes by IJ, scored 25 points and was selected MVP.

This season, Parkview didn’t have Ready when the teams met in the opening round. In Parkview’s previous game against a Memphis team, Ready had collected two technicals and was suspended for one game. Flanigan said Ready was suspended after trying to defend Beard. A couple Memphis Hamilton players had confronted Beard by walking up to his face, and Ready “came to his rescue,” Flanigan said. “He didn’t throw a punch or nothing.”

North Little Rock beat Parkview 82-68 and ultimately won the tournament with a 83-59 victory against host Little Rock Hall. Watkins and Allen were chosen co-MVPs.

Both sides wonder what would have happened had Ready played. His presence “would have made the game more interesting” and much closer, Allen said. “It would have made everybody just play harder than they ever had before.”

Flanigan believes Ready would have tipped the outcome in Parkview’s favor: “There’s no doubt, we would have won the game.”

Beard wishes there was a way to sort it out before Watkins and Ready graduate. “A part of me wishes that we could play North Little Rock in a championship game again.”

That won’t happen.

North Little Rock will compete for a championship in the state’s largest classification. Parkview is on a separate playoff track in the second largest classification. Decades ago, each classification’s champion played each other in an overall state tournament, but that no longer happens.

And so the question of the state’s best backcourt (and possibly the state’s best team) will likely forever stay up for debate.

A previous version of this article published in Sync magazine. Updated information on the recruitment and statistics of the four guards is here.

Every few years, it seems, a sense of boredom creeps into the NBA’s Slam Dunk Contest. Fans claim there isn’t enough creativity and TV ratings drop. Players notice and try to jazz things up with a dizzying array of props—from Reebok Pumps and blindfolds to Superman capes and Kia sedans. But a basic problem remains: “There’s only so much you can do in the air with a basketball,” says 2012 Dunk Champ Jeremy Evans.

Rule changes have proliferated along with props. In 1993, the event was cut from three to two rounds. In 2002, the League pared the field to four competitors and a year later introduced a gimmick where judges spun a wheel to determine a famous retro dunk that had to be emulated.

The idea didn’t exactly take flight.

But history shows people, not rules, have given the competition its biggest jolts. Dr. J did it with the original ABA contest in 1976, then the NBA’s debut version eight years later. In the 1980s, Dominique Wilkins and Michael Jordan dominated the event, but by the late 1990s its popularity had plummeted.

Since then, the League’s marquee wings have stopped participating. For Kobe Bryant (the ’97 champ), LeBron James, Dwyane Wade and others of their ilk, the risk of injury or embarrassment doesn’t outweigh the money and prestige to be gained.

But if superstars can’t be counted on to save the day anymore, who can?

One promising idea: allow a contestant to be chosen from the public through YouTube-based voting.

YouTube already provides ideas used in recent dunk contests. Evans, for instance, found inspiration for likely his most memorable dunk in last year’s event by browsing online video clips.

The two-ball alley-oop he flushed after jumping over his seated Utah teammate Gordon Hayward came from a standing version done by pro streetball dunkers—Team Flight Brothers, as he recalls.

Evans welcomes non-NBA contestants, even if they put NBA players at a disadvantage by primarily training for dunk contests instead of games. “It would just be a bigger challenge,” he says. “They have different tricks and ideas that we’re gonna have to prepare for.”

It’s not hard to imagine someone like Kenny Dobbs, long considered the world’s greatest streetball dunker, crashing the party. The NBA already allows celebrities to play in one of its All-Star Weekend games. In 2012, it outsourced all voting in the Dunk Contest to fans.

Clearly, the League understands opening its doors to the outside world is a good thing. To bring buzz back to what was once its most thrilling regular season event, it should open them a little wider.

On a January evening in 1994, 19-year-old Derek Fisher welcomed a coach and an athletic director into his apartment to discuss the future of the University of Arkansas at Little Rock’s basketball program.

Only a sophomore at the time, the UALR Trojan had already assumed a weighty role few collegiate seniors have ever filled. His teammates were fed up with the attitude of their head coach, Jim Platt, and were ready to go public with their grievances. They chose the even-keeled Fisher as unofficial team spokesman.

“It was really something that came from my teammates,” says Fisher, a Little Rock native. “It wasn’t something I assumed would be my responsibility.”

Yet it became his charge when he and other Trojans boycotted a practice, taking a trip to the mall instead. An ad hoc summit was called, bringing Dennis White, an assistant coach close to Fisher, to his apartment that January night. He brought along former UALR athletic director Mike Hamrick.

The gravity of the situation didn’t catch Fisher off guard: “It wasn’t necessarily a surprise, but I think in a sense I was almost humbled by the level of respect that they were holding for me as a representative for the rest of our players,” Fisher says.

Teammates wanted Fisher to request a meeting with the entire staff, minus Coach Platt, to air concerns—that in preceding months he’d become too negative, too sarcastic, crossing the line between barbed motivation and verbal abuse. They asked Fisher to voice an ultimatum: Either fire Platt or we won’t play in an upcoming rivalry game against Arkansas State.

He accepted.

“Immediately, I took on that leadership and protector mentality of looking out for what’s best for my teammates,” says Fisher, “even more than for myself.”

Nearly 19 years later, heading into his 16th NBA season, Fisher hasn’t stopped protecting. As a point guard, he has excelled at taking care of the ball and preserving fourth quarter leads—to the tune of five Championships with the Los Angeles Lakers.

As a father, he protected his family’s best interests by switching teams to be closer to doctors who could treat his infant daughter’s eye cancer. And as president of the NBA Player’s Association, Fisher has had to unexpectedly defend his reputation from attacks by a powerful colleague. After decades of looking out for others, Fisher is in the twilight of his career, and having to look out for himself more than ever.

As of early October, Fisher wasn’t yet on an NBA roster for the upcoming season. After the Lakers traded him in March 2012, he signed with the Oklahoma City Thunder. Although the Thunder thrived with Fisher’s help off the bench, winning the Western Conference, the team didn’t resign the 38-year-old.

Though the outcome is still unclear, possible destinations for Fisher’s next move include Boston, New Orleans, Charlotte and Milwaukee. Even the Lakers may give him a second look as a third-string point guard—Ramon Sessions, the young guard brought in last spring to replace Fisher, opted out of his Lakers contract, and Fisher, who still lives in Los Angeles, is a known commodity whose leadership helps in the Playoffs.

Yes, he’s lost some quickness. But he’s also kept close to shooting guard Kobe Bryant. They entered the League together, and pushed each other to excel in frequent one-on-one games. After Los Angeles’ most recent title in 2010, Bryant credited Fisher with being the team’s “heart and soul.”

This designation has been a recurring theme on Fisher’s squads since his days playing for Little Rock Parkview High School and the Arkansas Wings in summer circuit. Just like with the Lakers, he didn’t star on those talented teams. Instead, guys with better stats like Maurice Robinson, Dion Cross and Corliss Williamson grabbed the headlines. But what Fisher lacked in size, athleticism and talent, he more than made up for with savvy and effort.

“He has one of the best work ethics I’d ever seen, at that age or even now,” says Williamson, who played with Fisher on the Wings and remains friends with him. “You know how a lot of us are as teenagers,” he adds. “We wanted to hang out and do different things, whereas Derek was more focused. He was always trying to go out and lift weights or get up extra shots.”

As a 6-foot, 173-pound Parkview senior, Fisher averaged 11.9 points, 3.8 rebounds, 3.1 assists, 1.8 steals and not very many heads turned per game—good stats, but certainly nothing that screams “star.” It became apparent that his dream of following in the footsteps of Razorback point guard Lee Mayberry—a star Hog followed by many young players—and playing for the University of Arkansas wouldn’t pan out. Nolan Richardson, the former Hogs head coach, said that at the time Fisher was more of a shooter than pure point guard and wasn’t yet a player who could compete for playing time in a deep backcourt including Corey Beck and Clint McDaniel. So, Richardson didn’t offer him a scholarship.

Instead, Fisher signed with UALR, where the father of his best friend Clarence Finley was an assistant coach. Coach Jim Platt had initially doubted whether Fisher was worth a scholarship, according to Fisher’s autobiography, Character Driven. But Fisher proved himself early on, becoming a starter a few games into his first year.

“On that particular team as a freshman, walking into the team that year, I don’t necessarily think I assumed I would have a leadership role,” Fisher says. “But I definitely always carried myself from an example standpoint, trying to do things the way a leader would do them.”

***

The day after Coach White and Athletic Director Hamrick left Fisher’s apartment, the team convened with the staff sans Jim Platt. At the meeting, Fisher explained the team’s decision to boycott the ASU game unless Platt was immediately replaced. Hamrick explained that contractual terms made this impossible, but did promise to investigate the complaints and evaluate the situation at season’s end, Fisher wrote in Character Driven.

The players decided to keep playing, and at season’s end, Platt was let go. New coach Wimp Sanderson had work to do. “When I got there, it was chaos, kind of,” Sanderson recalls. “It was just a bad situation. All of [the players] were quitting” the program and looking into transfer possibilities.

On paper, they could have been the ’72 Soviets, ’04 Argentinians or ’06 Greeks.

Heading into the 1984 Olympics, the Italians’ talented, deep national team looked primed to invade Los Angeles and topple the host Americans in one of the biggest upsets in sports history.

These aerial Azzurri had already proven themselves giant killers by beating the Soviets in the previous Moscow Games. Since then, the U.S.S.R. had knocked off the U.S. in the World Championship tournament. Italy excelled at half-court or uptempo sets, and was much more experienced than the collegiate American squad, which featured North Carolina’s Michael Jordan, Georgetown’s Patrick Ewing and the first two Razorbacks selected for an Olympic basketball team: Joe Kleine and Alvin Robertson.

“American talent is the best in the world,” an editor of a popular Italian basketball weekly told Sports Illustrated in July 1984. “But their players are 20 years old against men who’ve played 80 games each year for 10 years. The U.S. player has taken maybe 5,000 shots in games in his life. The others have taken maybe 50,000.”

It appeared the world was catching up. And not just archnemesis U.S.S.R, which had beaten the U.S. for gold medals in ’72 and ’82. Puerto Rico, for instance, came within a point of upsetting the U.S. in a fast-paced early round game of the ’76 Olympics.

Some Americans pointed out the Olympic policy of pitting collegians against foreign pro players [deceptively listed as civil servants to technically qualify as amateurs] actually played in the youngins’ favor. The Americans only had one chance to play for gold, whereas these grizzled, chain-smoking Eurovets sometimes got four, even five shots. All those return trips could sap enthusiasm, the theory went, producing a mellow Miroslav here, a jaded Jonas there. Not so for the American college players who understood the rarity of moment, wrote Sports Illustrated‘s Alexander Wolff: “It’s their only opportunity to play together before going their separate ways to seek pro fortunes. They generate an enthusiasm, an authentic Olympic spirit.”

It also helped that the players brimmed with confidence. While coach Bobby Knight and staff actually paid attention to opponents’ names, their players didn’t. “And the arrogance of us in America, we thought we were the only ones who played basketball,” Kleine recalls with a laugh.

Ultimately, homecourt advantage, Knight’s coaching and transcendent talents like Jordan proved too much. The Americans steamrolled to gold in 1984, not even stopping to play Italy, which lost in the quarterfinals to Canada.

At the same time, the writing was already on the gym wall.

Insiders knew even then the world was catching up. Moreover, one European—a pro coach named Boris Stankovic—had already been working since the 1970s to include NBA players in the Olympics. These two trends came to a head in the 1988 Seoul Olympics, when the Soviets beat the U.S. yet again, this time leaving bronze medals hanging from the downcast necks of collegians like David Robinson, Danny Manning and Dan Majerle. The nation’s pride was deeply wounded. “Anytime we lose it gets America’s attention,” says Kleine, an assistant coach at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. “When we win in basketball, it’s business as usual but when we lose … that’s when it’s like, ‘How could they lose? Americans don’t lose in basketball.'”

Thus began the Dream Team era, which may end next week.

***

The first Dream Team, of course, got the ball rolling 20 years ago with a tour de force in Spain that stands as one of team sports’ most celebrated runs. It wasn’t merely the 40- and 50-point bludgeonings, however, that to this day thread the first pro American Olympians’ legacy through song lyrics, movie references and video game covers. It’s the way the squad’s combined on-court ability and off-court charisma won new legions of basketball fans, and ultimately NBA consumers, overseas. Headliners Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Charles Barkley and Scottie Pippen had already shone plenty as individual stars; together, they produced wattage brighter than a Barcelona nightscape.

“It was absolute madness,” says Kleine, who played with Jordan and Pippen on the 1997-98 Bulls. He recalls tales of fans “outside the hotel all day and night. Three or four people deep, behind the barricades, just wanting to get a glimpse of them so bad. They had that kind of rock star, Beatles kind of thing going.”

Pau and Marc Gasol, then children, would have been among the local Spaniards transfixed by the Dream Teamers’ astounding athleticism and flashy play. These brothers, along with fellow non-American NBA stars Dirk Nowitzki, Manu Ginobili and Tony Parker, have all said the Dream Team inspired them as young players. Now the Gasols are a major reason Spain is expected to challenge the U.S. for gold in the Olympic basketball tournament that began July 29.

To win, Spain has the unenviable task of beating a U.S. team loaded with experienced superstars like Kobe Bryant, LeBron James and Kevin Durant. It won’t be easy, but the Spanish have a much better chance than any of the original Dream Team’s opponents. Just as other nations closed the gap on American collegians before 1988, so have international players closed the gap on American NBAers since 1992. This was never more apparent than in 2002-2006, when the U.S. failed to finish higher than third place in two World Championships and the ’04 Athens Olympics.

Just like after 1988, the American powers-that-be righted the ship. This time, it wasn’t a matter of importing better players from the NBA for a single summer. Instead, it was more about strategically selecting from already available players, then convincing them to commit to a few summers for the sake of program continuity, all under the aegis of a long-term coaching staff.

Overall, this strategy has worked. The senior U.S. men’s team hasn’t lost a tournament since 2006. Its mega-millionaire players don’t grumble much about receiving relative pittances for their national team play. They say appropriate, patriotic things about playing for national pride and not taking the opportunity for granted. The last few years, in fact, it seemed USA Basketball had pretty much nailed this whole obliterate-the-rest-of-the-world-with-a-marketable-smile-on-your-face thing. The whole enterprise seemed to hum on all cylinders.

Then NBA Commissioner David Stern had to open his big mouth.

***

Before getting into why Kobe called what came out of Stern’s mouth “stupid,” let me first say this: America has never had a more cosmopolitan commish. The first time my Turkish father ran into Stern, he was shopping in Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar. Stern gave my rug salesman father his business card and, hearing about my NBA interest, told him to get in touch. A few nights later, in an Istanbul arena, we did, wending our way through a courtside security detail during halftime of the first game pitting an NBA and Turkish pro team.

Broadly smiling, Stern emerged from the bowels of Abdi Ipekci arena, shook my hand and before long was asking about the language classes I’d been taking. He even wanted me to throw a few Turkish expressions his way.

In all his travels, Stern keeps noticing one thing in a never-ending quest to make basketball the world’s biggest sport: It’s not yet the biggest sport. Not by a long shot, actually. But Stern’s smart, and he realizes the world’s biggest soccer leagues and organizations have developed business tactics that could also benefit the NBA. In the same way the NBA accelerated the global popularization of basketball by exporting players, coaches and merchandise, so does Stern want to import soccer business strategies to further spread his league’s influence while padding its bottom line.

As inevitable as a Ginobili Euro step or Nowitzki one-footed fadeaway, this process has already begun.

It started in January when the International Basketball Federation (FIBA) changed the name of the World Championship to FIBA World Cup. That name squares nicely with other premier international tournaments: the Rugby World Cup, Cricket World Cup and, of course, the cash cow mother of them all, the FIFA World Cup. The NBA got into the act two weeks ago by announcing it would allow advertisement patches on jerseys starting in fall 2013. Such a change could drop as much as $100 million into league coffers.

In this context, then, it shouldn’t surprise that Stern wants to copy soccer yet again. He has proposed limiting future senior Olympic men’s basketball teams primarily to players no older than 23 years old. That’s the rule in Olympic soccer, where 23-and-under teams compete with up to three exceptions for older players. Which means, most likely, this would be the last Olympics for the likes of LeBron James, Chris Paul and even first-timers like Russell Westbrook and James Harden.

Why the proposed change? Not surprisingly, money. For one, NBA team owners profit from healthy superstars. They fear season-ending injuries during Olympic games or practices. But this happens in offseason workouts and pickup games, too. More importantly, the status quo has the International Olympic Committee, not the owners, controlling the Games’ financial spigot. The owners “don’t get money from the Olympics, so the Olympics isn’t a big deal to them,” Kleine says.

If the 12-team Olympics were no longer the world’s premier basketball tournament, as is the case in soccer, then the NBA could better capitalize on the fame of its best assets. And so, Stern wants to amp up the prestige of the FIBA World Cup by making it the one tournament open to all NBA superstars. It’s likely the FIBA World Cup, already at 24 teams, would expand to an even more lucrative 32 teams, according to SheridanHoops.com. Stern and FIBA chief Patrick Baumann will discuss this development after the Olympics. Expect the NBA to strike an agreement with FIBA providing itself with a healthy revenue stream.

By and large, players seem to despise any attempts to downgrade the Olympics. “It’s a stupid idea,” Bryant told reporters in mid July. “It should be a [player’s] choice.”

Expect foreign players to hate this idea even more. Think about it: Americans, even in an under-23 Olympics world, should still win most gold medals. Not so for international players who will likely end Olympic careers on a frustrating, losing note.

Will Neighbour, a standout basketball player for UALR, assumed he’d have multiple shots to make the senior British national team. A 22-year-old veteran of a few junior teams, he had high hopes of representing his nation this summer in front of a home crowd at London. A shoulder injury and surgery sidelined him from these Games, though, and Stern’s proposal wouldn’t help any future attempts. “Personally, I would not like it at all, because that’s my dream to play in the Olympics,” says Neighbour. “I came closer this year, and then my shoulder happened, so my eyes are already set on 2016. And it would just make everything so much harder for me to make that team.

“I think every country should just give the best that they have and I think that’s why they allowed professionals to play in the Olympics in the first place.”

The prospects don’t look good for guys like Neighbour. What Stern and his inner circle want, Stern et al. tend to get. Even if that happens, though, could this new-fangled FIBA World Cup actually eclipse the Olympics in popularity and prestige, like the FIFA World Cup has in soccer?

Don’t bet on it, says Kleine. “It’s won’t overtake the Olympics. I think the Olympics are too steeped in tradition. It’s just such big deal.”

That may be true. But for an ambitious multinational corporation like the National Basketball Association, profit is a much bigger deal than patriotism.

This article was originally published in SYNC magazine. Listen to the 89.1 FM version of this story at kuar.org.

Grown men bounce off 6-7, 240-pound Joe Johnson on a hot, humid June day in downtown Little Rock. One skinny 6-3 guy ricochets off Johnson as he corrals a rebound and barely jumps to lay it through the hoop of a collapsible goal. No whistle from the ref, as the courtside announcer yells: “This is a big boy game!” You can almost imagine Bill Clinton, who catches some of the action from his penthouse apartment in the nearby presidential center named in his honor, nodding in agreement.

For the last two summers, Nets guard Joe Johnson has been the honorary chairman of his hometown’s Hoop Jams 3-on-3 Tournament. During the event, though, there’s about as much chance of finding him sitting in a chair as seeing him rocking a Boston Celtics Tam o’Shanter at a Toby Keith concert. Johnson, a six-time All-Star, has insisted on playing in the top division of his own tournament with a team of three childhood friends. “I’m too passionate. I just can’t go out there and watch them guys play, because I want to play,” he says. “Not only am I hosting this tournament, but I’m gonna win it as long as I’m hosting it.”

So far, so good. Johnson’s Team Jordan—which includes Carl Vault, Brandon Greenwood and Patrick Walker—is 8-0 over the last two years. It’s easy to understand how a player of JJ’s caliber can trounce opponents who played at the likes of University of West Alabama and Arkansas-Little Rock, even while giving 70 percent effort. What’s more perplexing is why a $124-million man would risk even the slightest injury as one of the few—only, as far as he knows—modern NBA players participating in his own summer tournament.

The first answer is simple: Johnson loves the game and likes sharing it with fellow Arkansans. When his uncle Tracy Johnson, who helped raise Joe, told him the Clinton Foundation wanted him on board before the inaugural 2011 event, Johnson didn’t hesitate. “I immediately jumped on it. I wanted to make it an annual thing, to come out and have things for kids to do.”

Johnson also wants to help Arkansas Baptist College, which along with the non-profit Clinton Foundation, receives some of Hoop Jams’ proceeds. Tracy Johnson attended the Little Rock college and often took his young nephew to its basketball games. As a child, Johnson also frequented its gym to play Vault, losing each time. The breakthrough didn’t happen until Johnson began attending nearby Dunbar Junior High in ’93.

This brings us to perhaps the most important reason Johnson lends his name, and game, to the Hoop Jams fundraiser. In 1993, a darkness enveloped whole communities within Little Rock, nearly bringing them to their knees. It’s taken two decades, but these communities are regaining balance. Given this, Johnson has a chance at an assist much greater than the 3,480 he’s so far accumulated in the NBA, for a turnaround resonating far longer than anything he could have accomplished on the court as the Atlanta Hawks’ former cornerstone. Or, for that matter, any best–casescenario with the Brooklyn franchise he joined in a July 11 trade.

—

“Unless we do what the old African proverb says—it takes a village to raise a child—unless we as a society start doing that, we could hire all the cops and build all the prisons in the world, and as long as somebody’s hungry and hopeless, they’re also dangerous.”—Former Pulaski County Coroner Steve Nawojczyk, Gang War: Bangin’ in Little Rock

For a sickening while, the downtown neighborhood Johnson spent his early teen years in might have been the nation’s most dangerous. By ’93, a 20-block radius around his future alma mater Little Rock Central High had essentially become a war zone as clashing gang factions staked out territory. The cost was high: murders spiked to 76, more than double the numbers seen only three years before. With 177,000 people, Little Rock had a higher per capita homicide rate than some of the cities from which its original gangsters and drug traders had arrived in the late 80s—places like New York, Chicago and especially Los Angeles. They found a city with relatively lax gun laws and a new market for crack cocaine.

“L.A. Moe” arrived in ’87 and was credited with forming the area’s first Crip affiliate gang, according to the documentary Gang War: Bangin’ in Little Rock. “It’s a little L.A. out here now,” he said in the ’94 film. “When I first got here, it was real country. They would fight on weekends, but they’d be friends again that coming Monday. Now they don’t fight no more. They just go there and shoot.”

Residents slept in cast-iron bathtubs for fear of catching stray bullets from a drive-by. One of the film’s most harrowing interviews takes place in Centennial Park, a few blocks west of Arkansas Baptist College. Seventeen-year-old Bobby Banks, already the leader of a local Crip gang, lauds his lifestyle while sitting on a swing. He claims to own a home, three cars and plenty of cash. Banks’ supreme confidence was the exception. As rural Southerners, Arkansans had long dealt with disadvantages that consistently put them at the bottom of national income and education rankings. But the 80s brought a new layer of problems, mostly urban, to deal with. Many of Little Rock’s young black males, already grappling with poverty and increasingly broken homes, felt trapped and frustrated.

Even in elementary school, Joe Johnson saw another option. Compared to many children growing up in the “war zone,” he had a few advantages: a safer home neighborhood and a tight-knit family including his uncles and mother, Dianne Johnson. Still, violence touched Joe. He was shocked one evening when his mother returned home from her stint as a state psychiatric hospital nurse, fresh stitches in the side of her head. A patient had gone on a rage, grabbed a chair and attacked her and some colleagues. She was hit above her ear. “I was heartbroken,” Johnson says. “I never wanted to see her hurt in any fashion…I didn’t want her to work there but I understood that she had to do whatever it took to get the bills paid.”

By junior high, Johnson decided his calling was basketball, and he knew staying focused on it would help him navigate the land mines lurking outside Dunbar’s walls. Even on the weekends, he says, “I stayed in the gym.”

After school, he and his friends sometimes walked a couple blocks to the west, toward Arkansas Baptist College, to grab cheeseburgers at the Wheels and Grills carwash. Young teenage gang members, some of whom Johnson had befriended, also frequented there. Especially at night, the trash-infested spot was a bane for police. There were robberies, assaults, stolen cars and drug possessions. Nobody tried to pull Johnson into that world, though. “My mindset was a lot different. I was inspired at a young age to try to be somebody, to try to be somebody special. Not only for myself, but for the likes of my mother, who worked so hard for me and her. I didn’t want her to have those worries.”

Thanks to Arkansas Baptist College, Wheels and Grills and its crime problems no longer exist. In its place stands a pristine carwash named Auto Baptism, a crown jewel of a community revitalization project in which ABC has taken a leading role. In ’07, the historically black college bought the property where Wheels and Grills stood, renovated the structure and turned it into a student-run business. Ten cents out of every dollar of profit is invested into a fund that allows ABC to continue buying some of the condemned and dilapidated properties surrounding its campus. It has bought nearly 30 boarded-up homes to renovate or tear down, says Larry Bone, the school’s former director of institutional advancement.

This proactive approach toward breeding grounds for crime has been part of the master plan of ABC president Fitz Hill since he assumed the post in ’06. By that time, violent crime had waned. Still, Dr. Hill strongly believed crime could be further reduced by attacking a key root: lack of education. With this correlation in mind, Hill has marketed Arkansas Baptist College as an inclusive institution geared at inner-city black men. ABC even welcomes high school dropouts and has developed classes covering study skills, personal finance, time management, interview skills and speech to help them succeed. Money made from Hoop Jams helps cover tuition costs for those who otherwise couldn’t afford it, Hill said.

In the last six years, ABC student enrollment rose from 287 to 1,193; total revenues increased from $2.5 million to more than $20.2 million. Hill and his team have nurtured ties to local companies, churches and government organizations to sustain the community revitalization project. Hill, a former Arkansas Razorback football coach, has also used his connections in the athletic world. Besides Johnson, other Hogs involved in Hoop Jams include Pat Bradley, Blake Eddins, Reggie Merritt and Anthony Lucas. Hill’s friend Mike Anderson, Arkansas’ head basketball coach, attends the event’s opening reception each year. He enjoys catching up with Johnson, one of his players from a previous assistant coaching stint at Arkansas. “I’m so proud of him,” Anderson says. “He has become a tremendous player, but I think he’s still a humble guy. It’s reflected in what he’s doing in the community.”

Johnson shows that desire through more than Hoop Jams. This summer, like in previous summers, he’s playing in a basketball league at the Dunbar Community Center. There, he often sees former Central High teammates like Jarrett Hart and Mark Green, guys who have invested in renovating homes in the area. Johnson has chipped in to clean up the area, too. He gave $60,000 to help renovate Central’s football field and wants to start the remake of Central’s decrepit gym. “I’m sure I’m gonna be a part of that,” he says.

Johnson has two faint tattoos on top of his wrists. Both are Hindi script, and together they translate to “Incredibly blessed,” he says on a Saturday evening outside Central High. It’s a place he still gets goosebumps while visiting. He knows much of his success stems from this neighborhood, where he got plenty of opportunity to discover and hone his unique gifts.

Opportunity itself is a gift, too. That’s why Johnson joined a team to provide it.

As far as individual stats go, Kevin Durant doesn’t worry much about precedent. The 23-year-old is far too busy setting his own: youngest player to win an NBA scoring title (and likely only one of any age to wear pink and blue argyle socks), youngest to win three straight scoring titles, youngest to score 10,971 points—the last 16 of which still smolder in the collective imagination of basketball fans everywhere. “That was great, just to see that and be a witness,” Thunder guard Thabo Sefolosha said of his teammate’s torrid fourth quarter.

As Durant’s name gains traction in the League’s record book, so does the nationwide appeal of the surging team he leads. No team with a core of players so young—Durant, Russell Westbrook, James Harden and Serge Ibaka are 23 years old or younger—has ever played this well at this level. In the last two seasons, these Thunder have reached the Conference Finals twice. They have won 121 of 178 games, the last of which has many believing the team of the future’s time is now.

Not so fast.

Yes, the Thunder’s 109-103 win over San Antonio on Saturday night was impressive. Yes, the Spurs, once so hot, have now lost two in a row for the first time since Newt Gingrich was relevant.

But the Spurs are still at the front of the bus, with the game’s best coach at the wheel. Moreover, that bus has returned to San Antonio for Monday night’s Game 5 of the Western Conference Finals. There, the young Thunder cannot feed off the emotions that fueled it to consecutive wins in the cozy confines of Chesapeake Energy Arena. To win, they will have to fortify their focus, block out distraction and get similarly unexpected X-factor contributions like the combined 18-for-20 shooting performance received from Serge Ibaka and Kendrick Perkins on Saturday night.

On top of all this, Durant must again pump in a maestro performance. Even if Westbrook and Harden elevate their game, the bulk of praise or blame ultimately falls on Durant’s shoulders. And chances are, despite the Thunder’s recent success, Durant and his team will fail. History typically doesn’t smile kindly on whippersnapper teams trying to topple the title-winning old guard this deep in the Playoffs, even when the up-and-comers are led by a transcendent talent equal or greater to Durant.

In the following series, a relatively unproven challenger (the lower seed) tried to knock out more experienced teams that had recently won titles in what’s now known as the Conference Finals. Game 5’s are italicized when the series lead was at stake.

In all of the above situations that closely resemble today’s OKC-San Antonio Game 5, only once—in 2007—did the less experienced team topple the older team on the road. And that win doesn’t happen without a superhuman effort from LeBron James, who scored the Cavaliers’ final 25 points. That Cleveland team, of course, would get swept by a vastly more experienced San Antonio team—featuring the same core players who will play better at home tonight.

After Saturday night’s loss, Spurs swingman Stephen Jackson discussed how homecourt advantage helped the Thunder rediscover their mojo: “They want it. They want to be here, they wanna win. I love the passion of those young guys over there in that locker room. I love the passion, how much they want it, and I just want us to be the same way.”

“We got to have that fire and that energy from the beginning of the game like they are. They’re ready to play. It takes us a quarter, or the second quarter or even the third quarter for us to get going and playing physical. We got to be that team from the beginning of the game.”

Years from now it will be some grey-bearded Thunder player representing a top-seeded Oklahoma City squad talking the same way, trying to fire up his teammates for one more Championship.

The first of those titles will arrive soon enough. Just not this year.

Expect Durant, like Robertson, Chamberlain, Thomas, Jordan and Nowitzki before him, to succumb to his elders first.

Arkansas-based journalist Evin Demirel has written for ESPN.com, Slate and SLAM magazine. Follow him on Twitter @evindemirel.

Of all the teams predicted to go farthest in Madness Madness bracket pools filled out last week, I suspect North Carolina and Kentucky got the most love. These perpetual safe bets seemed even more so with a talent and size advantage relative to other programs. According to nbadraft.net, fourteen Wildcats and Tar Heels will be selected in the next two Drafts. Near the top of this year’s mock board is North Carolina sophomore Harrison Barnes, the one-time savior of Iowa State University.

No Iowan has had a more renowned high school career than Barnes, an Ames native whose college decision became the subject of much scrutiny in the fall of 2009. He considered offers from the usual bigwigs—UNC, Duke, UCLA—as well as Iowa State which was just down the street from his home. Many Iowans salivated at the prospect of Barnes helping the Cyclones return to their first Final Four since 1944, then felt jilted when the 6-8 forward committed to North Carolina in November 2009. Barnes traded an immediate legacy as one of the best players in Iowa State history for just another spot in a long line of Tar Heel legends.

A couple states south of Iowa, a similar scene has played out in Arkansas.

Here, senior Archie Goodwin recently led the Sylvan Hills High School Bears to their first state basketball title. Like Barnes, he capped his prep career in resounding fashion, and has become the first Arkansan selected to play in the McDonald’s All-American High School game, the Jordan Brand Classic and the Nike Hoop Summit. Like Barnes, he has become a star in a state of around 3 million people—and left many of those people unhappy.

Last September, Goodwin had boiled his college choices down to a few schools, with Arkansas and Kentucky near the top. Razorback fans loved the idea of the 6-4 shooting guard helping Arkansas once again topple the SEC’s elite teams. Goodwin, however, chose to join Kentucky, the very definition of elite SEC team. It wasn’t a popular decision in his hometown of Little Rock. Some Hog fans labeled Goodwin a traitor for proclaiming a love for his home state while deciding to take his talents elsewhere. Barnes likely felt similar backlash in Ames.

This isn’t a unique situation. The rosters of Kansas, North Carolina and Kentucky all have great prep players who shunned programs in their relatively small states to give Goliath a hand. It’s a fan’s right to be irked by such decisions, but I hope temporary frustration doesn’t boil over into long-term anger at some of these players. For basketball fans, love of the game should supersede loyalty to a specific program. Seeing a player the caliber of Barnes or Goodwin in high school is a gift for fans. The college choice doesn’t diminish that.

This realization hit home in the second half of Sylvan Hills High’s title game against Little Rock Mills. Sylvan Hills had clawed ahead in a brutal, physical contest full of fouls. Mills’ undersized players endured busted lips and severe leg cramps; making it ugly was the best chance they had. For a while, the game resembled more trench warfare than sport. Then, in two moments, Goodwin made it fun all over again.

The first time came with a dribble drive down the middle of the court’s side. Two defenders converged on Goodwin near the free-throw line; he shook them with a stutter step dribble, reverse pivoted through them and sprung into the air, contorting his body to scoop the ball off the backboard for a 49-30 lead. Over the next 10 minutes, Mills closed it to 42-53 but any hopes of a further comeback were detonated when Goodwin corralled a long rebound, jetted down that same side and saw a sliver. He took off from about 10 feet out and by the time his head reached backboard’s bottom, you knew it was gonna be ugly. The Mills player flying by/under in a vain attempt at swattage confirmed Level 10 nastiness. The one-handed tomahawk ignited a roar from the crowd lasting at least 15 seconds, and this on-air remark from Buzz 103.7’s Pat Bradley: “I think he took off when there was about three minutes left on the clock, and he landed with about 2:45 left.”

In these instances, whatever words are stitched on the front and back of jerseys lose significance. Athletic brilliance happened, it was enjoyed and that is enough. In a flash, we are reminded what “play” means, that it started long before James Naismith nailed peach baskets to a 10-feet gym railing and that it will last long after we’re gone. That’s something to cheer, no matter your team.

The author, who’s written for ESPN.com and SLAM, covers basketball in the Mid South. Follow @evindemirel. This piece originally published in Sync magazine.

“A lot of people didn’t get him. They had too many expectations about how they should talk and how he should talk and how they should all behave, which in the end is what I think led to the end of his tenure. which I always regretted. I always thought the guy had real power.” — Bill Clinton

Nolan Richardson and his Arkansas Razorbacks faced no more daunting obstacle on their path to the 1994 National Championship than the Kentucky Wildcats in Lexington, KY. Since losing to the Hogs in 1992, the No. 4 Wildcats reeled off 33 consecutive victories at home. When the No. 3 Hogs entered Rupp Arena on February 9, 1994, the Wildcats roared to a 39-24 lead with 4:44 left in the first half. Arkansas, though, kept up the full-court pressure.

“The style that we play, there’s a lot of times you’re gonna get down in the ballgame,” former Arkansas coach Richardon tells ESPNU in its upcoming documentary 40 Minutes of Hell. “But if you stay after it and stay after it, it’s like wear and tear constantly. Something’s gonna break. And if that breaks then we’re gonna be in position to do something about it.”

By the end of that February 9 game, Kentucky’s endurance was shattered and Arkansas’ confidence had never been stronger. The documentary uncovers footage of Razorback Corliss Williamson walking off the court carrying teammate Al Dillard on his back, and of Scotty Thurman busting out some kind of celebratory shimmy shake amidst the ensuing locker room hoopla.

In his postgame talk, Richardson roared: “We were supposed to do that. That’s how you look at it. That’s why I say it’s a day at the office.”

Such heady times might have become the norm in the mid-1990s, but the Razorbacks’ program has not seen similar success then. The documentary doesn’t explore why success dwindled in the last seven years of Richardson’s 1985-2002 tenure. Instead, 40 Minutes of Hell focuses on how the very same forces driving Richardson to that
1994 title led to his fall following two 2002 press conferences.

The video presents original footage and commentary from some of the most pivotal Razorback games of the era, including the 1991 showdown between No. 1 UNLV and No. 2 Arkansas at Barnhill Arena and 1993’s 120-68 victory over eventual Big Eight champ Missouri. It also packs in interviews with former President Bill Clinton, current Hog coach Mike Anderson, former Arkansas Chancellor John White and a few key members of Arkansas’ championship team.

Here are some of the most interesting excerpts:

In 1985, Richardson initially declined the Arkansas job. But his daughter Yvonne convinced him to change his mind, pointing out Fayetteville was only 90 miles away and he already had fans there. With only 12 wins in his first season, it was a rocky start.

“It wasn’t the easiest place to start a career. I had a lot of racial slurs, I had a lot of hate mail. We weren’t very good. There was one night I could not even go in my condo because of a bomb threat. I wasn’t winning so ‘Get him out of here.’”—Nolan Richardson

Yvonne was diagnosed with leukemia in 1985. Mike Anderson, then an Arkansas assistant coach, helped the Richardsons by regularly driving her 100 miles to Tulsa for treatments. Two years later, however, Yvonne died at age 15.

“I think from her I gathered some more strength. It was like ‘I got to show these people something. I got to show them something before I get out of here.’ And you’re gonna help me do this, because you brought me here. Let’s show them. Let’s show them it can be done.”—Richardson

Many national pundits favored Duke over Arkansas heading into the 1994 title game. The Blue Devils were deemed more intelligent. This perception, unsurprisingly, irritated Richardson, who used it as fuel to further motivate his team.

“Well, it was the smart kids versus the dumb kids. The smart coach against the dumb coach. How smart do you have to be to block a shot? How smart do you have to be to trap? How smart do you have to be? You have to be smart to do that? What is smart? You don’t have to be as smart as everybody says you need to be. All you have to do is understand the game… [Duke coach Mike] Krzyzewski is no doubt one of the masters of the game, but my team played a little bit better than his.”

“He used to tell us all the time if you see me and and a bear fighting, you better help that damn bear. I ain’t gonna need you to help me.”—Corey Beck

Arkansas hasn’t returned to the Sweet 16 since 1996. By the early 2000s, the mounting demands seemed to be getting to Richardson.

“I think as the team started to take a dip, the pressure is building. The years of anger and feeling like he had to prove himself, he’s not able to forget that stuff or leave that stuff behind. I think that all came to a head”–Rus Bradburd, author of 40 Minutes of Hell: The Extraordinary Life of Nolan Richardson.

“I had the impression for several weeks leading up to it, that Nolan was growing tired of pushing the big, big ball up the mountain”—former Arkansas Chancellor John White

Then it all unraveled within a week. At two press conferences—first in Kentucky, then in Arkansas.

The Arkansas Razorbacks and Houston Cougars—if these basketball programs were unshaven old men holding court in a bar, you may want to guard your ears. They could be talked off from the sharing of long-ago exploits.

++++++

It’s the late 1970s and Arkansas wears the crown. Little Rock Hall’s Sidney Moncrief joins Ron Brewer and Marvin Delph to form the famed “triplets.” They are bad to the bone, these three athlete extraordinaires. Moncrief regularly sends rims to the ER with his crazy hops; Sports Illustrated takes notice. A cover photo follows, then a 1978 Final Four appearance and after a while Arkansas fans expect greatness forever and ever more, amen.

It’s the early 1980s, and Houston is taking the crown. A sportswriter sees a 6-10 Nigerian who’s able to protect the rim a with a cat-like quickness honed by soccer goalie training. This cat’s years away from acquiring a name-starting “H” or a dream shake fadeaway, but Akeem Olajuwon has plenty at the moment. Namely, Cougars’ swingman Clyde Drexler, another All-American talent who attacks the rim like a taller Moncrief. The sportswriter dubs Olajuwon and Drexler as the core of “Phi Slama Jama,” a group which initiated a three-season keg stand of success leaving some Houston diehards dizzy to this day—three consecutive Final Fours, including two straight finals appearances.

Arkansas wins three of the teams’ eight meetings in this 1982-1984 era. In 1984, Arkansas plays Houston three times in five games. Each time, both teams rank no lower than 12th nationally.

Arkansas next owns the SWC in the late 1980s and early 1990s, by which point Houston had descended into mediocrity. Arkansas left the conference in 1991 (it would fold five years later) but the Razorbacks had built enough momentum to eventually emerge as national champion in 1994. Houston never recaptured the glory of previous eras.

Arkansas, too, would tail off in the late 1990s. By the early 2000s, its tale, quite frankly, gets ugly: Nolan Richardson fired, a race discrimination lawsuit, Stan Heath, Dana Altman, John Pelphrey.

++++++

Recent years have depressed both programs’ fans, but check out the former champs now and you won’t exactly find them slumped over at their bar stools, softly prattling about bygone times.

Instead, both sides are optimistic that new golden days are just around the corner—no kidding this time. Which isn’t to say those last times were supposed to be jokes. After Heath’s lukewarm head coaching tenure, Arkansas hired Pelphrey. He was all fire and brim, and best yet had SEC bonafides as a Kentucky player during Arkansas glory years. Ol’ reddie was supposed to understand Arkansas fans and their high expectations, but after that first season it never really clicked—not with the fans, the media or his own players.

In the late 1990s, Houston had their own fling with a would-be savior—Clyde Drexler himself. But, as often happens, star players don’t make great coaches and Drexler quit after two seasons and a 7-25 record.

A decade later, Houston hired James Dickey, who’d been an Arkansas assistant coach in the early 1980s, to right the ship. Dickey, like Pelphrey,
had battled against the program which would hire him during its best years. Dickey, a Boone County native and University of Central Arkansas graduate, had seen Phi Slama Jama up close and personal.

And now he’s banking on the descendant of an original Jama member (a Jamonite?) to help lead Houston back to prominence. Houston’s redshirt freshman Joseph Young is the son of Michael Young, who fraternized with Olajuwon, Drexler and forward Mike Thibodeaux. The father is now Houston’s director of operations. His 6-3 son, a prolific outside shooter, had to sit out a year after reneging on a letter of intent he’d signed with Providence as a high schooler. For Cougar fans, both men symbolize bridges from a better past to a better future.

It’s a feeling thousands of Hog fans at Verizon Arena will share on Friday night when they embrace Mike Anderson as their prodigal prince turned king. The 51-year-old spent nine seasons wandering the desert after Richardson’s exodus, four in Alabama and five in Missouri. Just enough time for fans to realize what went down during his 17 years as Arkansas assistant was something really, truly special. Rare is the coach who can instill a champion’s dedication, discipline and desire like Sutton or Richardson.

The lessons start with perseverance, and setbacks since early summer have already given these Razorbacks ample opportunity to learn. Hog signee Aaron Ross, of Little Rock Parkview, was supposed to be part of a new version of the triplets with Arkansas natives Rashad Madden and Hunter Mickelson, both freshmen. But Ross didn’t academically qualify to join the team and enrolled into a Wisconsin prep school. Also, three players transferred: veteran point guard Jeff Peterson, three-point marksman Rotnei Clarke and power forward Glenn Bryant.

This makes Arkansas smaller and less experienced than most of its best foes. The Hogs’ lack of depth means Anderson can’t keep the defensive heat turned up on his helter-skelter style of play as long as could with his deeper Mizzou teams (although 10 Hogs did play at least 10 minutes in Wednesday night’s 91-68 win over Summit League champ Oakland).

Houston, also very young and eager to push the tempo, is an almost ideal early opponent.

Young, along with Darian Thibodeaux (not a Jamonite) and Johnathan Simmons, are its primary perimeter threats. Sophomore Alandise Harris, a four-time all-conference player at Little Rock Central, will work the wing. “He can score outside, inside, post up, come off screens, read defenses” and make the correct passes in transition, says Central head coach Oliver Fitzpatrick.

It could be a somewhat bittersweet homecoming for Harris, who wanted to be a Razorback and thought he had an Arkansas scholarship waiting. But Harris qualified late for college, and discovered there was no scholarship after all. Houston’s coaches, among them UALR graduate (and former Trojan assistant) Daniyel Robinson, were quick to welcome Harris.

And while Harris still has sisters, aunts and uncles in Little Rock, he will not see his mother Alberta, who died unexpectedly a month into last season. Years ago, Alberta Harris had told Fitzpatrick she wanted her son “to behave himself and to graduate. We set about trying to make those things a reality for her and I think [Alandise] has done a good job of it.”

Look for Harris to matchup against Rashad Madden and Rickey Scott.

For whichever side that wins, recent trends will be bucked. Houston finished 12-18 last season, but won only two of 13 road games. Arkansas, 18-13 last season, has had a tough time winning against quality competition at Verizon Arena, formerly known as Alltel Arena. Arkansas has beaten four teams since 1999 at the arena, with Rice the only borderline major conference foe in that bunch. Meanwhile, it has lost to the likes of Oklahoma State, Illinois, Baylor, Texas Tech and—gasp!—Appalachian State in North Little Rock’s not-so-friendly confines.

On Friday night, however, Arkansas’ new era begins in earnest. As its first major conference competition, Houston serves as the Hogs’ best barometer yet. A win over such an opponent at Verizon Arena bodes well for Anderson.

This game serves as a homecoming for people in both programs. That warrants some celebration, sure, but—honestly—how much excitement can an Arkie or Texan soul spare for basketball in November when both sides’ football teams are ranked in the Top 10?

Soon enough, this night becomes just a blip on an early season slog of a schedule.

Years from now, though, when Arkansas or Houston—or both—are kings again, some may look back on this game as a turning point, when the constant rehashing of old exploits gave way to the start of a fresh story, with new heroes.

Evin Demirel is a North Little Rock-based journalist who blogs about basketball at thesportsseeer.com. He has found blogging about that sport in Arkansas when the Razorbacks football team is nationally ranked No. 6 to be not dissimilar from singing karaoke at home.

No wave and after wave of full-court pressing, frenzied and ferocious to the point of making opponents simply want to lie down, curl up and whimper. No fire-eyed coach prowling the sideline, arms waving, spit flying, orchestrating it all. No Hogcall filling the entire arena with something like the other-worldly wail of 20,000 sports-crazed Caspers.

More accurately, Friday’s night’s “Primetime in the Palace” at the University of Arkansas wasn’t the long-awaited return of Hawgball yet.

It’s been well over a decade since Nolan Richardson and his staff smashed through college basketball using full throttle, defense-oriented basketball as their title-winning club. But with the March hiring of Mike Anderson, Richardson’s chief lieutenant for three Final Four appearances and the 1994 NCAA Championship, expectations for a return to past glory have skyrocketed.

“Primetime in the Palace,” featuring a dunk contest and a glorified pickup game, represented the world’s first taste of Arkansas Razorback basketball under Anderson. There were tantalizing morsels:

Freshman BJ Young of St. Louis provided a few.

As seen above, the 6-2 guard won the dunk contest by skying over a student manager, then started the scrimmage by flashing extremely quick reaction time. After attempting an alley-oop for Marshawn Powell, who missed it, Young immediately scampered to the ball and hit a short jumper.

Young’s end-to-end court speed with the ball is breathtaking, not unlike that of a former Kentucky Wildcat guard.

When he had the ball in the open court, Young simply John Walled past whomever stood in his way. Check out his acceleration at the 24-second marker:

Another freshman, Devonta Abron, showed he can do work inside. The Dallas area native scored at least two baskets with a nice lefty hook, and as he extends his range it’s not hard to imagine the 6-7, 255-pounder getting beastly on some box scores. His most impressive attribute at that size is sheer athleticism, which he flashed through the dunk contest and with little jig he danced during player intros.

At this level, though, every team has plenty players who can crank out YouTube highlights worthy of a hundred up-turned thumbs.

It’s clasped hands, though, which make teams special. So far, it looks like this team has that camaraderie stuff down pat.

Exhibit A: the entire team didn’t have to jump to their feet and rush the court to congratulate a non-scholarship player who had just flushed home a reverse. Julian Spivey isn’t even officially on the team yet, but you wouldn’t know it by the way the big names have embraced him:

Effort makes teams special, too. Especially effort which goes well beyond the kind needed to simply keep an athletic scholarship, to the point where its possessor appears slightly unhinged.

Freshman guard Rashad Madden didn’t have to attack the rim so hard that his momentum carried him into the third row from Bud Walton Arena’s court, his flying foot just clipping the ponytail of a young fan. But he did, because he has that edge coaches love. Look for Madden (6-5, 175) and Young to become Anderson’s most disruptive backcourt defenders.

Before the game, Mike Anderson told the crowd: “We’re gonna work diligently to put Razorback ball back on the map.”

It won’t be easy.

Friday night was all fun, games and smiles, but the Razorbacks have serious unanswered questions heading into an early season schedule culminating December 3 on the road against defending national champion Connecticut:

1. With the premature departure of Rotnei Clarke, who picks up the outside scoring slack?

No one person. Few players in the nation bring the outside heat like the 6-1 Oklahoman, who last season nailed 45-95 three-pointers for the Razorbacks. But Rot transferred to Butler for his senior season, leaving senior Julysses Nobles (12-33 three-pointers) as the Hogs’ best perimeter threat.

Big man Hunter Mickelson likely has the best outside stroke of the Razorback newcomers, but what BJ Young and Rashad Madden may lack in outside proficiency, they more than make up for in ability to penetrate to the basket. If they keep to their strengths as freshmen, and resist taking too many rushed outside shots, they could still combine to lead the the Razorbacks in three-point plays—of the “and one” variety.

2. Who guards the basket?

All-SEC defender Delvon Johnson, who shares honors with Steven Hill as the Hogs’ best shot-blocker of the last decade, graduated. Senior Michael Sanchez (6-8, 236) had recent back surgery and could be out through early November. Right now, the Hogs must rely on freshmen Mickelson (6-10, 236) and Devonta Abron, as well as senior Marvell Waithe (6-9, 216).

Waithe, who has actually bulked up since last season and cut his long hair, is a role player. Mickelson is long and very active, but he and Abron will take their bumps early on as they adjust to college competition.

How fast these bigs adjust will go a long ways to determining whether Arkansas can spring an early season upset against UConn, which features superfreshman Andre Drummond (6-10, 270) and Storrs’ very own Charles Oakley, Alex Oriakhi.

3. Has Marshawn Powell fully recovered physically and emotionally?

Two years ago, Powell burst onto the SEC scene as one of the league’s best power forwards by putting together one of the best freshman seasons in UA history (14.9 points, 6.7 rebounds).

Last season, though, was one spent in Regress City.

A pre-season broken foot started things off badly for the Newports News, VA native, while slow recovery, weight gain and game-time displays of sulking only made everything worse. All in all, a pretty forgettable sophomore campaign.

So far, Powell appears to be flourishing under Anderson. He’s slimmed down to a lean 220 pounds and will soon have all his old quickness back. Most importantly, he seems to be enjoying himself and his teammates. Rickey Scott told ArkansasSports360.com Powell is a “different person” this season.

4. How will the top bench players perform?

Developing quality depth is an issue with any team. But it’s exceedingly important here because a) off-season transfers reduced the Razorbacks to only 10 scholarship players, which means b) there is less coal in the furnace to stoke Mike Anderson’s version of “40 Minutes of Hell” brand ball.

Two sophomores whose roles should increase significantly from last year are guards Rickey Scott (6-3, 195) and Mardracus Wade (6-2, 178). Foot and knee injuries kept Scott out most of last season, while Wade chipped in 3.6 points in 17 minutes per game.

Although sophomore walk-on Kikko Haydar likely won’t see much action against top opponents, don’t discount his importance to the team. The 5-10 Fayetteville native helps keep his teammates competing hard on the court, and stay unified off it. A top-notch student who gets a full ride through academic scholarship, Haydar may be the perfect roommate for BJ Young.

And visa versa, when it comes to learning how to kill it with flair:

See more video at Demirel’s blog, which affiliated with Sync Magazine.

It seemed Brittney Griner would just about do it all her freshman season. Become only the seventh female to ever dunk in a regular-season college game?

Check.

Set an NCAA season record for blocks with 223?

Check.

Mesh a 6-8 frame, 7-4 wingspan and superlative athleticism to represent the next step in the evolution of her game, while expanding basketball to bounds previously thought untouchable for women?

Checkmate.

But the parade screeched to a halt last April in the Final Four, when Baylor walked into the Beatdown Processing Plant that was UConn, 2008-10. Maya Moore did her superstar thing from the perimeter while Huskies center Tina Charles put on a clinic down low, consistently out-muscling Griner for better position. Despite giving up four inches, Charles lobbed in hook after hook over BG42. “I took it as a learning experience, going up against a senior and I was a freshman,” Griner says.

The final exam is coming soon: Baylor, long ranked No. 1 during the regular season, is a top contender to take Connecticut’s title this March.

Last summer, Griner started applying lessons from the UConn loss in the weight room and practice court: “Just getting stronger in the post, holding my base and finishing around the rim better. Different post moves and working on my hook shot.”

With new players like Brooklyn Pope and Destiny Williams, the rest of the team improved, too. And although point guard Kelli Griffin left the team in November, the Lady Bears transferred her duties to the more-than-capable hands of freshman Odyssey Sims. By the fourth game of the season, Griner and her potent supporting cast seemed all ready to visit Hartford and derail UConn short of its 80th-consecutive win.

Not so. Despite the absence of graduated seniors such as UConn’s Charles, Baylor couldn’t make critical baskets down the stretch and lost the rematch 65-64. Griner in particular struggled, missing eight of 15 free throws. “I don’t know what happened,” she recalls, then jokes: “The air conditioning vent above the rim was blowing kind of hard.”

What followed, though, is no mystery. After Baylor-UConn II, the Lady Bears strung together a winning streak of 21 games—the program’s best-ever start. Griner said the team learned to trust each other more and be more patient on offense while watching Sims mature into a star in her own right. “Odyssey is so quick,” she says. “She can get out there and harass the ball on defense as she’s shown, she can shoot the three and she can get the ball to whoever on our team needs it.”

“This year we’re getting a lot more open looks, and we have people stepping up and knocking them down, which opens up the center for me,” says Griner, who has upped her points per game by nearly four from 18.4 last season.

Besides Sims, a major reason the Lady Bears improved their three-point shooting from 28 percent to 38 percent over the last two seasons has been a healthy Melissa Jones; Baylor lost six of the 15 games the senior guard missed last season because of a stress fracture. “When she’s on the court, you can see she calms us down,” Griner says. “We can be up 30, and she can still dive on the ball and rebound and give us that extra possession.”

While Baylor-UConn III deep in March Madness could send women’s basketball TV ratings to historic heights, Baylor’s chief obstacle may prove to be Stanford, which exorcised its own UConn demons by snapping the Huskies’ win streak at 90 games.

Leading that squad are Nneka and Chiney Ogwumike, sisters who grew up playing in the same basketball circles as Griner in the Houston area. “Me and Chiney guarded each other a lot in prep and AAU ball,” Griner says.

Her take on playing the sisters in a possible Baylor-Stanford I? “It would be a good game like always. We used to match up real well in high school,” says Griner. “It was possession to possession.”

It could be such a rough and tumble contest that Griner’s summer workouts—which included pickup games with Baylor football players—should prove beneficial. She notes she didn’t dunk in those scrimmages, a drought that extended into the first months of the season. “It’s not that big of deal for me to dunk,” Griner says. “I’ve really just been focusing more on scoring and getting the bucket. I really haven’t had that mindset to dunk. I focus more on blocking shots.”

Height aside, Griner’s ability to patrol the paint shouldn’t surprise. She’s learned well from her father, a long-time policeman. “If I can’t play ball, I’ve always thought about being a cop.”

LITTLE ROCK — Nearly six years ago in Athens, Greece, it seemed US basketball had been dethroned. The senior men’s national team, bruised by two losses, including a 19-point spanking by Puerto Rico, attempted to save face against a formidable squad of NBA-caliber Argentinians in the semifinals of the 2004 Olympics. The Americans lost, 89-81, and for the first time a US team featuring NBA players failed to take Olympic gold.

Stateside, some basketball cognoscenti declared a coup d’etat of US supremacy that had seemed unassailable only 12 years earlier in Barcelona, Spain. Naturally, some blame fell to the players, a hastily assembled crew of 19- and 20-year-old phenoms (LeBron James, Carmelo Anthony), undersized gunners (Stephon Marbury, Allen Iverson) and back-to-the-basket bigs (Tim Duncan, Carlos Boozer). Coach Larry Brown, who butted heads with some of the team’s younger stars, received blame, too. But analysts fretted about far deeper problems rooted in the culture of American youth basketball.

There was a perceived gap in fundamentals between Americans and the best foreign players. Europeans dribbled, shot and passed better, conventional wisdom went, because they practiced those skills more. American teenagers, meanwhile, tended to play more summer circuit ball, filling their hours with jukes, dunks and 3-pointers, but precious few of the individual drills needed to round their games out. Problems were compounded by the ad hoc nature of US team selection. Whereas many of the players on other national teams had played together since adolescence, American players were often NBA All-Stars who had only part of a summer to learn to play with each other under international rules.

After that ’04 debacle, USA basketball brass began planning a strategy to put the US on top again. They demanded three-year commitments from senior national team members, crafted teams filled with players better suited to international play, created a team filled with college stars to scrimmage against them and tabbed Duke Coach Mike Krzyzewski to head it all. The strategy has so far succeeded; the senior men have lost only one game since 2004.

The script flips this summer, though, as young stars like Kevin Durant and Derrick Rose replace players from the ’08 Olympic gold team in vying for a FIBA World Championship in Turkey. They will attempt to follow in the path of their younger counterparts, the 17-years-and-under team, which last month romped to an 8-0 record in that age group’s inaugural world championship. Indeed, US men’s national teams have been on quite a tear recently: The U19 squad captured gold with a 9-0 record in last summer’s world championship, while the U18 team won the Americas championship with a 5-0 record this summer.

It doesn’t seem as if young American players are quite succumbing to a foreign onslaught of screen rolls and perimeter-shooting centers, a fear which prevailed following the ’04 Olympics and a loss to Greece in the world championship two years later. That fear is often founded in a preconception that bad habits riddle the summer, national youth basketball circuit, in which the Amateur Athletic Union plays a major role.

“If you’re playing defense in AAU, you don’t need to be playing,” NBA player Michael Beasley told The Wall Street Journal in 2009. “I’ve honestly never seen anyone play defense in AAU.”

Not everyone agrees: Hunter Mickelson, a member of the 17U Arkansas Wings who has orally committed to the Arkansas Razorbacks, said that for the most part defense during summer ball is intense, though he admitted some defenders might occasionally “slack off.” His teammates Rashad Madden and Aaron Ross, also highly recruited rising seniors, said that contrary to opinions of those like Beasley, strong defensive effort permeates their summer games.

A prime motivation to play in summer ball stems from a player’s desire to showcase his talents for college coaches and scouts. These games are played at a more open-court pace, with more talented players, than a typical high school basketball game. So it’s not surprising teams often score into the 80s despite 32-minute games. Still, recent attempts have tried to inject more structure and effort into the highest levels of the summer circuit.

For instance, this year Nike debuted its Elite Youth Basketball League. The league featured 42 17U teams divided into four divisions that played each other over the course of three tournaments in April and May. The top five teams from each division at the end of the three tournaments — along with four at-large teams — became finalists at the Peach Jam championship tournament in mid-July. Jeff Rogers, the league commissioner, said the EYBL provides a nice counterbalance to tournaments with championships awarded over the course of a weekend.

“That devalues the word championship,” he told ESPN.com in mid-July. “When you do compete for the EYBL championships you’ll have earned it over the course of two or three months.”

Madden, whose Wings played in the EYBL but didn’t make it to the finals, agreed: “You gotta play your best every time. You can’t afford to have no kind of slip-up.”

The league also features NCAA rules, including the college 3-point line, a 35-second shot clock, a bonus free throw after 10 fouls, player disqualification after five personal fouls and three-man officiating crews.

“It helps us get ready for college,” said Ross, who was the only one of the three favoring separate tournaments, each with its own championship, to a league setup like the EYBL.

The Elite Youth Basketball League “will unify and organize the game at the highest level,” said national recruiting analyst Paul Biancardi in the ESPN.com article. That’s the same goal of recent developments within USA Basketball. And it’s a major reason behind the recent debut of iHoops.com, an online collaboration of the NBA, USA Basketball, the NCAA, the AAU and others geared toward helping young basketball players through a trove of advice and resources on topics ranging from basketball skills and strategy, to study habits, to NCAA eligibility.

Despite its 64,677 Facebook friends, it appears the youth initiative isn’t tremendously popular among those high schoolers playing the most organized basketball, though. Mickelson, Ross and Madden said they’d never used iHoops, and hadn’t had anything to do with it beyond wearing shirts sporting its logo during an earlier tournament.

This story was originally published on Sync, a publication of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette.

Trivia: In ’08-09, Oklahoma City rookies and sophomores scored 60.1 percent of the team’s total points, the highest such percentage of the season. What was the last team to post a higher percentage of total points by rookies and second-year players? The answer is at the end of the game notes.

Twenty minutes before tip-off: I settle into press row, and meet an Israeli sports journalist who is devoting three months to covering NBA basketball in the United States. He said he’s covered Israeli basketball for Jerusalem-based publications for years, but wanted to experience NBA culture after watching the game on satellite his whole life. Now, he wants to be the first Israeli to write a book about the NBA while in the U.S.

Naturally, I was curious to get his take on Memphis’ Iranian center Hamed Haddadi, who some weeks ago greeted Sacramento’s Omri Casspi, the first Israeli to play in the League. Although my new friend had been in Memphis for a week, and spoken with such megastars as Shaq and LeBron, he hadn’t yet approached Haddadi for an interview. He said he planned to some time in the next week, but wasn’t quite sure what to say yet.

Five minutes before tip-off: Despite Memphis’ relatively successful recent run (three-game winning streak and a nice OT home victory over the Cavs on Tuesday), and nosebleed section seats dipping to $3, the FedEx Forum isn’t packed. Final attendance: 13, 048.

Three minutes before tip-off: It’s clear early on this Thunder team is tight-knit, and Durant’s leader of the pack. Green, Westbrook, Harden et al are dancing and prancing, while KD is slapping coaches’ and teammates’ hands like crazy. For sure, that chemistry has helped the team to its 12-9 start.

FIRST QUARTER

10:25 Westbrook hits a three from the top of the key and is on his way to a 1st-half line of 11 points, 4 assists and 4 rebounds. Before the game, Mike Conley praised Westbrook’s strength, quickness and jumping ability. If Westbrook develops a consistent outside shot, he’ll soon develop into an All-Star. And as Western All-Star mainstays Steve Nash and Jason Kidd continue to age, you would think at some point in the next few years there would be an opening for Westbrook.

Soon after, as the shot clocks runs out, Z-Bo vomits up a nasty-looking three-point attempt that splatters off the rim. As he rumbles back down court, he licks his fingers. I’d be trying to get that taste out of my mouth, too.

8:20 Nothing emetic here: Durant penetrates the Grizz D, jumps straight up and feeds Kristic for an 11-4 OKC lead. His game’s so well-rounded, so smooth, with a range so deep, that I feel Durant is basketball’s embodiment of the eerily perfect sphere found at the bottom of the ocean in Michael Chricton’s sci-fi thriller.

7:20 Not too perfect though: Gay strips KD as he cuts to the hoop, and the ball bounces of Durantula’s spindly legs an
d out of bounds. Despite losing the battle, Durant would win the war between he and Gay – a match-up of last season’s two highest scoring players under age 23. Durant finished the game with 32 points and 10 rebounds, while Gay had 16 and 7 on 25 percent shooting.

Jeff Green easily flushes home a Westbrook alley-oop. Pre-game, I was speaking with an advance scout who said Green’s versatile skill set had impressed him, and that Billy Owens woud be a good comparison. However, Green’s a lot more athletic than Owens, he added.

They weren’t kidding about Thabo’s long-armed D, as he just batted OJ’s floater into the seats, preserving OKC’s 18-10 advantage. I later notice Sefolosha has an arm tattoo declaring “The game chose me,” with an image of a basketball with a crown atop it. Bashful, this Swiss is not.

0:35 Durant makes the Cirque du Soleil shot of the night, as he storms down the right side, explodes, contorts through defenders, is fouled and flips in an awkward left-handed shot from nearly below the rim. While waiting to take his free throw, even he has to watch the replay.

Break between 1st and 2nd quarters

The Grizzlies organization honors legendary college basketball coach Gene Bartow, who led the Memphis State Tigers to the 1973 championship game, for his Nov. 22 enshrinement into the National Collegiate Basketball Hall of Fame. Dude got his own honorary Grizzlies jersey.

I’m curious — has any NBA team done this before? That is, publicly celebrate someone who was so affiliated with a local college team, but not with the NBA organization itself?

SECOND QUARTER

After getting him at the end of the 1st quarter, Thabeet again blocks a Harden shot. For a flash, he looks every bit the intimidating enforcer the Grizzlies need. Still, his lack of athleticism and offensive polish are clear, and the Tanzanian plays no more than 3 minutes and 26 seconds in the first half.

FYI nation: Thabs is one of four 7-footers on the Memphis roster, each hailing from a different continent (Steven Hunter, USA; Marc Gasol, Europe; Haddadi, Asia)

As the Thunder start pulling away, a couple of thoughts occur:

1) Is Thabo Shaun Livingston’s doppelganger? I want to know if there is another pair of teammates in professional basketball who so closely resemble each other in height, build, color and fa
cial expressions.

2) Alternate History Scenario: It’s 1989 and the story of Scott Brooks, a plucky Californian point guard from who scrapped his way up the professional basketball mountain, rivets the nation. Movie producers look to capitalize. Any doubt as to who should play the future OKC coach in this searing biopic?

2:29 After missing a couple of three-pointers, Durantula spins a web of profanity as he heads to the bench during a break. He’d miss all four tries in the first half.

Six quick points by Westbrook put OKC up 56-42 heading into the half.

HALFTIME

I spot my high school classmate Ross Glotzbach, who one year in the late ’90s was the only white guy on our Joe Johnson-led Little Rock Central High School team. Ross, a Memphis native and Grizzlies season-ticket holder, tell me he’s been chatting up Master P. The rapper didn’t think either team was playing with enough “heart” in the first half, Ross said. Turns out P’s in town to promote a toy drive. I get some peanuts and a pretzel and mull that.

THIRD QUARTER

The Grizzlies scrap back, and pull within 59-64 with 4:26 left.

These teams are the youngest in the Lea
gue (Grizz average 25 years, 76 days: Thunder 25 years, 88 days), and sometimes it shows.

To wit: with four minutes left, Westbrook drives into the teeth of the Grizzly D, and, without a teammate in sight, throws a nice two-handed chest pass entry pass to… the Toyota logo on front of the basketball goal structure.

0:38 Z-Bo shows nice court awareness. He gets a steal in the open court, and immediately passes it to a trailing Conley before spurting ahead of the pack. Conley then feeds him with a bounce pass, leading to a layup that puts the Grizz up 70-66. Randolph has a nice third quarter, as he vacuums in 13 rebounds and finished the quarter with 16 points and 17 rebounds overall. I was surprised to learn that going into the game Randolph and Gasol made up the second-most prolific rebounding frontcourt in the NBA, trailing only Noah and Deng in Chicago.

FOURTH QUARTER

Serge Ibaka, OKC’s 20-year-old from Democratic Republic of the Congo, has the makings of an elite defender. He’s 6-10, wiry and gets very low in his defensive stance. He consistently got his hand right into the face of Rudy Gay or Zach Randolph. Because of his quickness, he was able to body up on Randolph and stifle his jumper, which the slower-footed Kristic wasn’t able to do.

After a 73-73 tie, the game slides the Thunders’ way as they catch fire from deep.

4:00 OKC’s most hirsute player — Harden — wins a “beard-off” with OJ Mayo, who shies away from facial hair as much as he does shot attempts. His 16-footer at this juncture was swatted away from behind by Harden, who I swear actually flexed his beard afterward. OKC up 88-76.

As we watch an injured Kevin Ollie faithfully cajole his teammates on the sidelines, my new Israeli friend tells reminds me that Ollie played with Doron Sheffer, one of Israel’s best players, at Connecticut in the mid-’90s. He tells me that apparently Sheffer returned to Israel and went on a spiritual odyssey of sorts, involving a trip to India and discovery of cancer. Now, my friend tells me, Sheffer is a practicing Hasidic Jew who sports a full beard and kipa (little hat) and gives lectures around Israel.

As we watch Z-Bo bat the ball against the rim a a couple of times before converting the layup, the Israeli tells me that Shaq reeled off Hebrew phrases at him when they met before the Memphis-Cleveland game. In Shaq’s Hebraic linguistic arsenal, I am told, is the phrase “Hello friend, how are you doing?”